All American Rejection
by Phoenix II
Summary: COMPLETE! Chapter 13, The Epilogue, is up! StanxKyle, CartmanxWendy, KennyxBebe. A big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, and even to those who just read. I appreciate it a lot!
1. Dirty Little Secret

All-American Rejection

Summary: Welcome Back. This is the start of something I wanna try, specifically scripting a fanfiction to an entire album, not just a single song. So, my first test is to the album Move Along by the All-American Rejects. Thusly, there will be 12 chapters. Hopefully, I can to have one out every three days or so, depending on my computer access. Chapter 1 is "Dirty Little Secret," after Track 1 by the same title on the album. Main pairing is Stan/Kyle. There will probably be others as the fic progresses. Review, please!

Disclaimer: I don't own the South Park characters or any of the songs on this album. I might have downloaded them, but shh!

-.-

_**Let me know that I've done wrong**_

_**When I've known this all along**_

_**I go around a time or two**_

_**Just to waste my time with you**_

Stan Marsh did not handle break-up well. Kyle Broflovski knew this. It was why, once every month at least, he suffered a small dip in his grades. Stan needed comforting, and Kyle preferred to handle this himself. He'd seen what had happened before. The Goth kids only got worse with age. They were interchangeably in the school and the hospital, from cutting themselves. Kyle decided he wouldn't like Stan as much if the other got into that kind of life.

It wasn't as though the raven-haired youth was the only person in Kyle's love life. He'd dated a couple girls, mainly for appearance's sake. They couldn't stay away from him, but between Stan and his mother's insistence that he go through his homework three times nightly to make sure he made no mistakes, Kyle had very little time for socializing and romance and that aspect of teenage life. Besides, he had Stan to see what happened to people who did.

Stan. The only person Kyle was really close to. Over the years, they'd developed a relationship that allowed them to be remarkably candid with one another. It was Stan that Kyle had first confided to that he might feel something more than normal towards guys. It was Kyle that Stan had first admitted the real reason why he was always breaking up with girls. It was because of their relationship that they had each other.

_**Tell me all that you've thrown away**_

_**Find out games you don't wanna play**_

_**You are the only one that needs to know**_

The one thing they had made clear to each other after their relationship was opened up to include things other than friendship: no adhering to stereotypes. Neither boy would change their wardrobes to acknowledge the presence of a sense of fashion, nor would they start commenting on the clothing of others. And if one even uttered the word "super" in an exclamatory fashion, the other was definitively allowed to kill him in any fashion available.

No secret after-school games of "Twister" or spin-the-bottle. No disguising the relationship with 7 minutes in Heaven. Absolutely no Truth-or-Dare. If roped into such a game and presented with a situation where they would be with each other, whatever was required would be done to the minimum and with the enthusiasm of an 80-year-old Catholic nun.

It was perfect. They were BFFs, after all. They were entitled be close. Of course Stan and Kyle would be over at each other's homes all the time. Stan had the newest Gamesphere, and if it was the night before a critical exam or project was due, well, Kyle was at the top of the class. Who else would Stan go to for help studying or completing the project? His ex-many-times-over Wendy Testaburger? God forbid.

_**I'll keep you my dirty little secret**_

_**Don't tell anyone**_

_**Or you'll be just another regret**_

_**Hope that you can keep it**_

_**My dirty little secret**_

Kyle knew the perfection of this arrangement. He, after all, had come up with the plan. Pretty much anything they DID together was done at Kyle's house, because if there was one thing Sheila Broflovski would NEVER do, it was interrupt Kyle while he was studying. As long as his door was locked, she would leave him to his business, doing nothing but informing Kyle when food was made available and when she, Gerald, and/or Ike were leaving to do something. She had no clue that the smiles on her son and Stan's faces when they announced that they were going to study Anatomy was because of the double entendre of the statement.

At school, everything was normal. Stan hung out with Kyle no more than usual, still found time to hang out with his friends on the sports teams (Stan played anything he could), and Kyle, for his part, stayed bookish and could usually only be seen from the chest down (as his face was buried in a book). No one would have guessed that anything out of the ordinary was going on between the two. Stan continued to "date," and Kyle continued to blame his mother for his inability to do the same. Their little liaisons continued, with the occasional Friday night or weekend interruption for Stan's part of the façade, or an unplanned family outing.

_**Who has to know?**_

Kyle was quite content. He had everything he wanted. He had Stan. He had his grades. The best part was, no one would make the connection. His mother certainly had no idea that Kyle was usually finished with all his homework, even three times, before supper. That way, he was able to completely devote his nights to "helping" Stan, either in school or in life.

_**When we live such fragile lives**_

_**It's the best way we survive**_

_**I go around a time or two**_

_**Just to waste my time with you**_

There was just one thing Kyle hadn't counted on. Wendy Testaburger got suspicious. Stan never stayed away from her for more than a couple weeks, a month at most. Now he hadn't even spoken to her in two months, and something clicked in her brain. Confronting him was out, he'd either puke on her or just stammer something out and run away. No…she'd have to be clever. But Kyle was only first in their class because Broflovski came before Testaburger alphabetically.

She'd done it for a week, hiding in trees and bushes watching what Stan did and the way he interacted with people. She noticed. There was definitely something going on between Stan and Kyle. Kyle always kept his curtains shut in his room. Some people just had too much goddamn common sense. She'd contemplated hiring "Ze Mole," but decided against it. She would go to Kyle. He wouldn't throw up on her, and he was much more vulnerable to her interrogations.

_**Tell me all that you've thrown away**_

_**Find out games you don't wanna play**_

_**You are the only one that needs to know**_

She'd found him, predictability of all predictabilities, secluded in the library, chair tipped back, book propped up on his decently-defined chest, constantly pushing hair out of his eyes. If she wasn't concerned about getting her part-time boyfriend back, she would have likely started daydreaming about ravishing HIM then and there, under the decidedly un-watchful eye of the school librarian. She slid into the chair across from him without him tearing his eyes from the page. Apparently, SOMETHING was fascinating about "The Federalist Papers." She cleared her throat softly, and smiled to herself as Kyle nearly toppled over.

"Wendy!" he hissed. "What do you want?"

"Stan," she replied equivocally.

_**I'll keep you my dirty little secret**_

_**Don't tell anyone**_

_**Or you'll be just another regret**_

_**Hope that you can keep it**_

_**My dirty little secret**_

Kyle had an "Oh Shit" moment right then. Wendy saw it in the emotions that flickered in his eyes.

"What about him?" he enquired, setting his book aside and trying not to blush. One thing Wendy loved about the nerdy boy, he wasn't very good at controlling his emotions. Never had been, really. At least he now had the good sense to avoid Cartman and his anti-Semitic comments whenever possible.

"Oh, I think you know," she replied. "I've usually broken up with him at least two more times by now, and you're spending an awful lot of time with him. I checked with the Counselor's Office, Kyle. His grades are fine. He's looking at Top 10. What are the two of you doing?"

_**Who has to know?**_

"Working!" Kyle insisted. Wendy smirked. She had him. That façade wouldn't last long. Not long at all.

"On what?" she inquired, ever-so-sweetly. Kyle had a sudden urge to beat her to death with his ushanka.

"Our Anatomy project," he said, smugly. Wendy almost scoffed. Ms. Derley had assigned the Final Anatomy project of the semester a good three weeks ago.

"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle," she said in a scolding tone. "I know you and your mother better than that. Even with Stan as a partner, you've likely had that project done for a week. At least I know you're working on Anatomy. How do you like it?" Kyle blanched, mouth agape.

_**The way she feels inside**_

_**Those thoughts I can't deny**_

_**These sleeping dogs won't lie**_

_**And now I tried to but it's eating me apart**_

_**Trace this nightmare**_

That effectively confirmed it. She reached across the table, smacked Kyle, then closed his mouth as his hand flew to his struck cheek.

"You're kidding?" she asked, both herself and Kyle. "You…and Stan? Together? Kyle, you should know better. There's no way that's going to work here." Kyle still wasn't speaking. He was, however, blushing furiously. He managed a slight nod.

_**I'll keep you my dirty little secret**_

_**Don't tell anyone**_

_**Or you'll be just another regret**_

"I'm not going to tell, Kyle. I should have known in the first place. Take care of yourself," Wendy said, standing and leaving the library, leaving a stunned Kyle. Once she was gone, he shook it off, picked up "The Federalist Papers," and tried to get back to what he'd hoped to accomplish over this break.

Had _Wendy_ really just broken him? Had she really found out? How? He hadn't told. He beat himself with the book when he realized what he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten to tell Stan to keep up his Wendy routine. That, and he'd underestimated Women's Intuition. He only hoped that no one else had heard the exchange.

_**I'll keep you my dirty little secret**_

_**Don't tell anyone**_

_**Or you'll be just another regret**_

_**Hope that you can keep it**_

_**My dirty little secret**_

_**My dirty little secret**_

_**My dirty little secret**_

Kyle was seriously worried about the last bit. She hadn't exactly been quiet with the last bit. Anything but, in fact. There wasn't really anyone else in the library, and what did the Chickenlover give a shit about? His secret seemed safe, but he needed to have a talk with Stan, and fast. He needed to go see Wendy, ASAFP.

Running a hand through his mop of hair, Kyle hurriedly packed his bags and headed to his next class as the bell rang.

_**Who has to know?**_

_**Who has to know?**_

-.-

Author's Notes: OK then. The next one is going to be…weird. REALLY weird. The lyrics are the most disturbing things I've seen in a WHILE, and I've read a few really odd things here in South Park section. Will be entitled "Stab my Back," and will focus on Stan/Wendy, probably. I have no idea in hell how it's going to come out, but somebody (who isn't Kenny) will probably die.

Blah. Thanks for reading this, now tell me what you think. If you're brave enough, I'm thinking of issuing a challenge for "albumfics" to SP, any pairing.

Also, I was thinking of running this as an SP parallel to "High School Musical," if 1) I had "High School Musical" to refer to for plot points and such, just replacing the music with bad karaokes of the All-American Rejects by whoever had the closest personal situation to the lyrics, and 2) I wasn't so goddamn lazy.

Anyway, review kindly. I'm going to bed.

Merry Christmas, Happy (belated) Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy (insert holiday here)

El Autor.


	2. Stab My Back

All-American Rejection, Ch. 2-Stab My Back

Disclaimer: Still no ownage of song or characters involved on my part.

Author's Notes: Noticing a small lack of reviews…I can't offer money, as I'm pretty close to broke right now, but I have Holiday Pastries of your choice available. Thanks to the one reviewer I've had so far. This will be a Kyle/Stan/Wendy chapter with a fair bit of dialogue, inspired by a little too much listening to alternative rock on the radio. These remain the creepiest lyrics I've ever seen, but the song itself doesn't sound all that bad…

-.-

_**Now we're broken on the floor**_

_**She just wants me to share her**_

_**It hasn't been this way before**_

_**She just wants me to dare her**_

Kyle, out of breath, had nearly run Stan over trying to get to him after school. Concerned, Stan propped up his boyfriend/lover/ "best friend," allowing the Jew to catch his breath and pack his bag. Once they were in Stan's car, and pulling out of the school parking lot, Kyle explained what he was in such a hurry about.

"Wendy knows," he said. Now it was Stan's turn to do a double take.

"Don't play games with me, Ky," he said.

"I swear to God I'm not, Stan!" the redhead insisted. "She cornered me in the library and blew our whole cover story aside. You need to talk with her, badly. She said she wouldn't tell, but she IS friends with Bebe…"

"OK, OK!" Stan said quickly. He knew the implications should Bebe Stevens get even a hint of anything more than friendship between him and Kyle. He dropped Kyle off at the other boy's home and headed off to Wendy's, a route he knew by heart. Her mother informed him she was in her room, and he brushed by her before she could ask if he wanted her to let her daughter know he was there, taking the stairs two at a time to Wendy's room, knocking on the door.

"Come in!" Wendy's voice filtered through, and Stan was in and had the door shut behind him almost before she finished. She looked honestly surprised to see him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I told Kyle I wasn't going to tell anyone." Stan explained Kyle's worries about Bebe, which drew a laugh from Wendy, who told him that Bebe was as dumb as a post, and couldn't possibly draw such conclusions on her own.

"Kyle still seems to think that it might be a good idea if I go out with you for a while again though," Stan persisted. "Something about 're-asserting my masculinity,' if I heard him right." This really drew a laugh from the girl.

"Well, if Kyle insists, I guess I can share you for a while," she said, leaning over and giving him a kiss. Stan's response was decidedly half-hearted. She obviously wasn't Kyle, and it was clear that, this time at least, the "relationship" between Stan and Wendy wouldn't be a sexual one. Wendy was disappointed in this. It showed that it would make it even harder to keep their secret, because they were more into each other than perhaps even they consciously realized.

_**The phone rings**_

_**And she screams**_

_**Stab my back**_

_**It's better when I bleed for you**_

_**Walk on me**_

_**It never was enough to do**_

Stan, as a joke on Kyle's Jewish heritage, had Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song" as his ringtone for when Kyle called his cell. After Wendy pulled away from her kissing attack, Stan pulled the phone, which had gotten to "Bowser from 'Sha-Na-Na,' and Arthur Fonzerelli" from his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and answered.

"_Hey Stan_," Kyle's voice came through. "_Have you talked to Wendy yet?_" Typical Kyle, Stan mused, but he DID know Stan had a habit of doing things Kyle told him to rather quickly.

"Yeah dude, I'm there now. She finds the whole 'Bebe-finding-out' thing ridiculously funny, and the thing that she and I should get back together to 're-assert my masculinity' downright hilarious," Stan informed him. "Officially, we're a couple again, unless that bothers you."

"_Not at all, dude,_" Kyle said. "_Put me on with Wendy, I need to talk with her about something_." Stan obligingly handed the phone over to his…girlfriend. Somehow the word no longer sounded right to him. He wondered to himself how long this would have to go on. 'Likely,' he thought to himself, 'until Kyle grows a backbone where his mother is concerned.' That was something that hadn't gone with age. Sheila Broflovski was still a bitchy dominatrix where Kyle was concerned, and Stan was certain that, barring a radical change in Kyle's mannerisms, there was no way the two of them would be able to come out as a couple until both were in college, hopefully somewhere not within a day's drive of one Mrs. Sheila Broflovski.

Returning his attention to Wendy, he found her laughing and going into something with Kyle that involved her talking really fast and looking at a day planner. Stan decided he would just ask Kyle later. It was Thursday, that meant they were going to study that night. Maybe more. Probably not, at least not until he was "broken up" with Wendy again.

When Wendy snapped the phone shut, she tossed it back to Stan and informed him they would be going to get a pizza and go see a movie the next night. Stan shrugged, said "OK," and asked if he could leave. This too made Wendy laughed as she waved him out of the room. Stan wondered if the girl was high, and backpedaled out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house, and back into his car. Once he got home, he watched a "Terrance and Philip" rerun, ate some macaroni and cheese, grabbed his homework and headed over to Kyle's.

_**I can't get past her**_

_**Falling faster**_

_**It's true**_

_**It hasn't done a lot for you**_

True to his assumptions, Stan and Kyle did nothing more than homework that night. Well, that wasn't quite true. Stan had tried some kosher food Kyle's mom was making for some special occasion or another. He'd also asked Kyle what he'd talked to Wendy about.

He almost instantly regretted asking. Kyle pulled out a day planner with dates circled in red on it and handed it to Stan. He and Wendy had ACTUALLY PLANNED OUT when Stan and Wendy would be  
"together," when they would "break up," what nights they would "date," even what they would do on these "dates." Stan had to hand it to Kyle, he was quite a nerd, but that only made him love him more. He did note with a small bit of happiness that he had two weeks of "Kyle-time" which was marked in blue in the planner on average between each bout with Wendy, which lasted an equal amount of time.

"Exactly what," he asked, "makes you think I like having to be both of your boytoys?" he asked, pouting. Kyle had chuckled and pushed him towards the door, saying "Behave yourself with Wendy, and I'll make sure the time you spend with me will get you through it." Stan had perked up like a dog near food, a squirrel being offered an acorn, or Tweek being offered a quintuple shot of espresso laced with coffee.

"You realize if you don't, I'm gonna kick you _squah in tha nuts_, right?" he asked, imitating Kyle's nemesis, the nefarious anti-everything Eric Cartman, who's hatred of Jews and minorities was only surpassed by his support of the most radical conservative policies he could learn about.

"Look closely at the schedule, loverboy," Kyle hissed, "I almost always get you when we're on break for something or other. That means you get even more of what we both know you can't resist." The last was delivered in such a sultry tone induced at getting Stan to "cheat" on Wendy in much more subtle ways, involving locked bedroom doors, cell-phones, and right hands. Stan, while quite enthusiastic about such possibilities, decided to play the oblivious jock.

"You know I hate math homework," he said with a straight-face that quickly dissolved into a shit-eating grin as he got the reaction he was after: an overtly dramatic smack of the forehead by Kyle, which knocked the fading ushanka askew. Kyle righted it and retreated back into the house. Before he could slam the door in Stan's face, the raven-haired boy remarked casually, "I'll call you later, Ky. Talk to ya then!" he said cheerfully as the door shut, allowing him to return home. It was ten by the time he got up to his room and locked the door.

_**And every time he held you close**_

_**Yeah, were you thinking of me**_

_**When I needed you the most**_

_**Well I hope that you're happy**_

Cell-phone sex was enough to satisfy Stan for one night. He was NOT, however, looking forward to spending the next two weeks under Wendy's thumb. He pulled out the day planner, and noted with some satisfaction that the two conspirators had at least managed to agree to leave Thursdays alone for him and Kyle. He, however, would be made to do SOMETHING with Wendy almost every other night. Spend time at each other's houses to watch TV, dinners, nighttime walks on the beach, movies, SHOPPING EXCURSIONS (!)?(!)? For an entire Saturday, in North Park. Stan let out a very audible groan, and it wasn't one of pleasure.

He HATED shopping, even when it was with Kyle and mostly consisted of getting what they were after within fifteen minutes and spending the rest of their time in the mall making fun of stupid people they ran into in other stores, or the funny looks they got from people while doing so. Shopping with a girl would be almost unbearable. She would drag him to the clothing stores while she tried on millions of top and skirt combinations, asking him each time if a certain combo made a certain aspect of her "too big." They would be made to go to the stupid candle store, and the little dumb kiosks that sold crap nobody needed, and the jewelry store. God forbid they should actually go to the novelty store, or pause for a lunch consisting of burgery goodness.

Shopping with girls, to Stan, represented the ultimate unforgivable sin. It was, to this young Catholic, the only acceptable reason for suicide. Suicide in very creative fashions, like getting one's necktie stuck in an escalator so it can slowly choke one to death, or attempting to bungee jump from an upper level with a cord made of silk ladies' scarves tied loosely together. It was NOT worth it, to have to go through all the clothes shopping, shoe shopping, purse shopping, kiosk browsing, jewelry shopping, and THEN sit through a chick flick in the mall movie theater with crappy stale popcorn and diet coke, because they couldn't be bothered to refill the things people actually WANTED to drink when they were in the presence of a girl. God Forbid.

The schedule was in Kyle's handwriting. For example, tomorrow night he was to

**5:30: Pick up Wendy at her house (for God's sakes, dress decently and clean out your front seat!)**

**6:00: Arrive at restaurant (reservations are in your name, just ask and slip the maitre'd $20)**

**7:15: Ask for the check (don't skimp on your order. I'M the Jew, not you! )**

**7:30: Leave the restaurant (remember to tip 15)**

**7:45: Arrive at theater (you'll be seeing "We Are Marshall," Wendy thinks Matt McC is hawt. Bleh)**

**9:30ish: Leave the theater (assuming she doesn't want to see the credits)**

**10:00: Drop off Wendy at her home**

**10:15: Get back to your room**

**10:15:01: CALL ME!**

Stan grinned, especially when he read Kyle's comments on the movie they were to see. He was initially surprised. "We Are Marshall" is a football movie, but apparently Wendy had a crush on McConnaughey. Well, one actor didn't make a movie, at least not for Stan, who pointed to Leonardo DiCaprio as an example for people who went to see movies just for one person. Or, as an even better example, "Gigli." Stan couldn't wait for the football action to begin, because it would initially be crappy and he could make fun of them, and then by the time the movie ended, be in envy of their "skills."

_**The phone rings**_

_**And she screams**_

_**Stab my back**_

_**It's better when I bleed for you**_

_**Walk on me**_

_**It never was enough to do**_

The next night rolled around, and Stan-having cleaned out his front seat and dressed nicely-drove to the Testaburger residence to collect Wendy, who was dressed in an obviously-new skirt and blouse. After making the obligatory niceties, they got into Stan's car for the drive to the restaurant, Wendy talking about how crappy school had been that day and how she was looking forward to seeing "McDreamy" with 70s hair coaching a bunch of young studs. Stan resisted and urge to smack himself in the forehead and issued a series of non-committal sounds, focusing his attention on the road.

The restaurant experience was equally uneventful. Stan wasn't really paying attention to Wendy, his thoughts were on a person of another gender entirely. It had only been one day, and he already missed being with Kyle. Although…Kyle didn't dress in skirts or really enjoy movies. He over analyzed them to death and-this is where Wendy interrupted Stan's thoughts by hitting him in the head with a roll to let him know his pasta was getting cold. Stan sheepishly grinned and took up his fork, inhaling most of the fettuccini before Wendy could get in another two bites of her Caesar salad, leaving Wendy to mutter something about "boys."

This triggered Stan's thought processes again, as he picked at the creamy noodles he wondered what Kyle was doing at the moment. He didn't know that Kyle was on the other side of the restaurant, and was in fact shadowing Stan and Wendy. He had a different hat on, switched glasses, and wore a fake mustache, but it was indeed Kyle. An extremely confused Kenny was playing the part of his "business associate," because Kenny remained one who wouldn't turn down the prospect of getting food on someone else's dime.

"…and so that's why I think that the dinosaurs were like Soviet Russia," Wendy finished. The pure absurdity of the statement was what shocked Stan of his funk this time. That, and there was apparently nothing else on his plate to pierce with his fork.

"Stan, are you listening?" Wendy asked as Stan checked his watch, noting the odd-looking businessman calling for his check. Shit! It was 7:15. Obviously in a hurry, Stan flagged down their waiter and procured their check, leaving two twenties to cover the bill and the tip as he practically dragged Wendy from the restaurant, ahead of the businessman and his companion, determined to stay on schedule.

_**I can't get past her**_

_**Falling faster**_

_**It's true**_

_**It's better when I bleed for you**_

The rest of the excursions followed a similar pattern. Stan just barely got through them, and secretly reveled in the late night phone chats with Kyle, and slaved through the week to get to Thursday, the oasis in his desert of a week. The two weeks with Wendy couldn't get over soon enough, and the two with Kyle, even with the time off from school, flew by. Stan chalked it up to the naps after sex that both he and Kyle still succumbed to, shaving two-to-four hours off each day.

The turn of events, overall, was working out. Far better, in fact, than the "Stan's got to study with me" excuses that they had been using previously. The fact that the status quo had been reestablished with Stan and Wendy's on-and-off again relationship meant that after a certain period of time, Stan would be sent "crying" to Kyle because Wendy "broke up" with him again, only to "make up" a couple weeks later and start the process going again. Nobody in school noticed anything suspicious in this, because that was just how things went. Wendy was a slutty, undeserving, stone-hearted bitch, Stan was a poor, run-down, constantly mistreated kid, and Kyle was his Super Best Friend. All of this was fact, and wouldn't change for the students at South Park High despite all of Cartman's fondest wishes.

_**I hope that love he gave you**_

_**Was just enough to save you**_

_**You nearly broke my heart**_

_**Just look at what you're tearing apart**_

Wendy, of course, was used to all this. It was South Park. Stan was the guy she didn't deserve and was way too big a bitch queen too. At first she'd asked, very defensively, if she wasn't entitled to a little payback for all the ruined berets and outfits he'd puked on. As time went on, however, and she dumped him again and again and again (and again), the more she convinced people that she was a heartless bitch who just didn't care.

When Kyle had suggested scheduling this routine to allow them to share Stan, the idea had intrigued her. That way, they'd be able to maintain a semi-stable relationship, and she'd be able to maintain her reputation. More importantly, it would be easier to keep their secret. Who, aside from Cartman, who accused every male in the school except himself of being a "queermo gaywad assrammer," would ever question Stan's heterosexuality?

They really were cute together, she reflected. Following night after night of no action from Stan, she had taken to fantasizing about the two together. One question she still hadn't answered was who went where. On the one hand, it had always been hard for Stan to be "on top" because of his asthma, but on the other, it was more likely for the nerd to be the "submissive" to the star quarterback-jock-type's "dominant." She had solved this by convincing herself that they switched. It made it so much hotter. She knew how hot Stan was, and pieced together a picture of Kyle based on what she'd heard from the girls he'd dated.

In between fantasies and dates with Stan, she'd managed to use her position of authority as editor of the school newspaper to go over Bebe's gossip columns with a fine tooth comb to make sure no one was speculating as to the relationship between herself and Stan, and Stan and Kyle. Any reference she found was deleted and rebutted to Bebe, who-gullible girl that she was-believed it only until she heard it again from somebody else that Stan and Kyle were "100 totally" in "wuve" with each other.

_**Stab my back**_

_**It's better when I bleed for you**_

_**Walk on me**_

_**It never was enough to do**_

Eventually, Wendy got tired of defending the secret from Bebe, and out and out threatened her that if she had to delete ONE MORE mention of Stan hooking up with Kyle from her column, she'd pull the entire thing and not let Bebe write anymore of them. Wendy had never liked the gossip column in the first place, she only tolerated it because she was friends with Bebe.

Blowing it off as "one of those things that's only interesting the first or second time you read it," and convincing the girl that Cartman was probably the person starting all the gossip about the pair (neither girl liked the Fatass), Bebe agreed to never write about a possible homosexual relationship between the Cows' star QB and the Senior Class President again.

Cartman-his plans for revenge against the hippie and the Jew thwarted-took to writing scathing letters to the editor where he continued to push his insinuations. Wendy simply shredded them, and bumped his opinion column when he tried to use that as a mouthpiece for them in favor of a school survey on "Whether or Not Terrance and Philip Are Starting To Lose Their Originality" that was overwhelmingly affirmative in its conclusion that the Canadian duo were starting to get old.

_**I can't get past her**_

_**Falling faster**_

_**It's true**_

_**It hasn't done a lot for you**_

After Wendy passed word of Cartman's attempts to expose the two, Kyle, Stan, and Wendy tightened up the charade, much to the chagrin of Stan and Kyle. They decided that Kyle would start studying over at Stan's house during their two weeks together for a change of pace, in case Cartman was actually on to them (Wendy assured them, based on what he had written so far, that he was not), but the two lovers decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

Wendy almost felt sorry for what the two of them had to go through to maintain their secret. It shouldn't have to happen, but she didn't know why it actually did. She thought the War with Canada had cured Kyle of his inability to stand up to his mother. Little did she know. Kyle suspected that he would suddenly befall all manners of bodily harm should he and Stan come out in South Park. Graduation was only a couple of months away, if they could continue the charade that long, he and Stan would head to college as quickly as possible, wait a month, then come out.

_**It's better when I bleed for you**_

_**It never was enough to do**_

_**It hasn't done a lot for….**_

Wendy just wondered if they'd be able to pull it off.

-.-

Author's Notes: OK, not as bad as I thought. Surprisingly, it's actually kind of cheerful. Maybe because I've been getting plenty of sleep lately, tonight being the obvious exception.

Kindly review for your Holiday Pastry of Choice, and stay tuned me doing another crack at Move Along. This is actually harder than I expected. I suspect that a certain someone will throw a certain monkey wrench into some certain plans of a certain "hippie" and a certain Jew. Why am I using the word "certain" so much? I don't know. Maybe I just like typing it now. Kind of a repetition thing.

Anyway, rambling, so I hope to wake up to some nice, fresh reviews tomorrow morning! Thankies much,

El Autor


	3. Move Along

All American Rejection-Chapter 3: Move Along

**Disclaimer: South Park ain't mine. Niether is the Song.**

**Summary:** Secrets are revealed, and problems start developing

**Author's Notes:** Alrighty! Apparently, bribery and complaining works to an extent. While I write this, I have 152 pageviews, and only 5 reviews…I appreciate those who are nice enough to leave one, but even if you hate it, let me know, so I can have a nice exchange of emails with you and I can try and convince you that this isn't as bad as you think it is! So…reviewers from this chapter get Brownies! Because I make brownies when it snows, and guess what it's doing? Why else would I be typing and uploading this early in the day? I can't go anywhere…

My reviewers!

Lilchicky004/gives you a pastry! Thanks, Glad you like it. Here's the new chappie!

Greyhound Master/gives you a pastry! Thanks. It will get really interesting as I get closer to the end, but, sadly, more depressive as well. Perhaps a sequel chapter with an unrelated song that's a little happier. /realizes I'm getting ahead of myself. Enjoy!

Flabz/gives you 2 pastries(cuz you reviewed twice!) Many thanks! Here's the next chapter, hoping it turns out better than the first time I tried this song. I really didn't like that one.

MaryAna/gives you a pastry! Thanks much! Here's the next chapter, as requested!

-.-

_**Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking**_

_**When you fall everyone sins**_

_**Another day and you've had your fill of sinking**_

_**With the life held in your**_

_**Hands are shaking cold**_

_**These hands are meant to hold**_

Stan Marsh was awakened by his favorite Jew bursting into his bedroom at 7:30 AM. Kyle Broflovski was panicking, and Stan-still groggy-looked at him with a questioning look. Kyle tossed him the local paper. Front and center was a grainy photograph of the two of them kissing in Kyle's bedroom. There was an accompanying article, and a blind person could probably read the 200 point type headline: "**South Park High QB Sex Scandal Exposed.**"

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Stan exclaimed, looking to Kyle for answers. Kyle pointed at the byline. "Special to the _Shopper_, by Eric T. Cartman…That Fat Fucking Son of a BITCH!" he screamed, scanning the article, which went on at-length about how the relationship had developed, the "suspicious activities" the two had participated in over the past few weeks, and even attacked Wendy for blocking his attempts to alert the High School to the pair's activities via the student newspaper, and went on to include copies of the pieces in question that Wendy had blocked. All of this, Stan was able to note in his still-half-asleep state, without revealing how he discovered this or how he got the picture. Based on the angle, Stan noted, it looked like it was taken from Kyle's computer.

He looked up at Kyle, his eyes questioning how Cartman had taken a picture from his computer. Kyle's computer was up against a wall, no place for Fatass to hide, or even hide Kenny.

"My computer has a webcam, dude!" Kyle said. "Fatass must've hacked me somehow, took control of the webcam, took the pic, and logged off. I don't know how he got past my firewalls and passwords…although things like that have never stopped him before."

"We're fucked, aren't we?" Stan asked. Kyle barely had time to nod before Randy and Sharon Marsh burst into their son's room, brandishing another copy of the _Shopper_.

"Stanley, what the hell is this?" Randy demanded, shooting Kyle a death glare.

"Oh spare me, dad, you know very well there's more to me and Kyle than friendship!" Stan said. "And if you give me any religious crap, well, we both know you've done some religiously questionably things yourself. If I'm not mistaken, one also involved a Broflovski, so shut up already!" Kyle looked at him funny, while Randy open and shut his mouth repeatedly, trying to find something to say, before sighing in defeat.

"Get dressed. Your bus leaves in twenty minutes. We'll talk about this tonight. Kyle, you're free to come by too, if you want. It concerns you too, and you might want to steer clear of your house until I can talk to your mother," Sharon said, before the two elder Marshes left the room. All Stan could do was stare at the door while Kyle tossed him some clothes from the closet, encouraging him to "hurry the fuck up," so they could "get the fuck out of here." Stan's house had become a little too weird for Kyle at the moment, even though Stan was sure he'd be over for dinner. His mom was right on one count, at least-SOMEBODY would have to talk with Kyle's Mom before he could even think of showing his face there again.

_**Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong**_

_**Move along, move along like I know you do**_

_**And even when your hope is gone**_

_**Move along, move along just to make it through**_

_**Move along**_

_**Move along**_

As they approached the bus stop, with less than two minutes before the vehicle arrived, there was only one other figure there, and it was decidedly NOT fat.

"Kenny?" Kyle asked as they stopped next to him. "Where's Fatass?" The question was asked in a tone that anybody could understand meant that Kyle meant to beat the hell out of Cartman. Kenny took one look at Kyle before responding.

"He said he didn't feel like coming to school today," the scrawny boy said. "Why?" Kenny's family was too poor to afford a subscription to the _Shopper_. Kyle deftly pulled his copy from his bag and threw it at him. Kenny gave it the same treatment that Stan had not even a half-hour earlier as the bus pulled up, handing it back to Kyle as the three got on.

"I can see why, then. Probably knew that if he showed today, he'd come out looking worse than he did that time you two left him on a cross for three weeks, and THAT wasn't pretty," Kenny said. "If it helps though, that picture is barely blurry enough for me to make out your Jewfro, much less any defining characteristic of Stan's. Unless he got a video from that, you don't have that much to worry about. EVERYBODY hates Cartman."

_**So a day when you've lost yourself completely**_

_**Could be a night when your life ends**_

_**Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving**_

_**All the pain held in your**_

_**Hands are shaking cold**_

_**Your hands are mine to hold**_

Of course, everyone who DIDN'T ride the bus was waiting for them to get there. Well, every girl who didn't ride the bus. And mostly just for Stan and Kyle. The squeals they got from them as soon as they were visible were ear-splitting. Evidently, they expected them to jump each other's bones right there. Stan looked at Kyle, who nodded. As soon as the brakes were applied and the door opened, they leapt from their seats and tore through the crowd, running for the entrance to the school. Kenny calmly got off the bus, and was promptly torn to shreds by the fangirls for allowing Stan and Kyle to escape their grasp.

"Shit!" he said upon arriving-once again-in hell.

It wasn't much better for Stan and Kyle, back in the land of the living. The girls were chasing them around, trying to catch a glimpse of them being "in wuv." Bebe had accosted them and ranted at Stan for "tapping Kyle's sweet ass" and NOT bragging about it. After school, when Stan headed off to football practice, he hoped he'd catch a break.

His hopes were dashed when he got to the locker room to find the entire team dressed in poofy red Jewfro wigs and nothing else. Token found it hilarious, Stan surrounded by a bunch of naked "Kyles," and made sure to take several pictures with his cell phone. Even the coach went along with this, issuing the green "no-contact" jersey to Tweek, and encouraging the linebackers to tackle Stan harder and harder. Stan, fearful of being considered a pansy, took hit after hit, and got up slower and slower.

Kyle had headed over to the school newspaper to see if Wendy had any ideas about what to do. He found her trying to ward off girls who were itching to hijack the gossip columns with their accounts of everything Kyle and Stan had done that day, some even had photos of the two looking particularly close.

"GodDAMNit!" Kyle exclaimed, wading into the fray and tossing girls out the door until nobody but official newspaper staff and he remained in the room. Some of them had lacerations and torn clothing, and one even had a black eye in the making, but it wasn't anything serious. Wendy gave Kyle a relieved look.

"Alright. Now, let's get back to work!" she said. "We've got a half hour max until this thing has to be ready to go." She turned to Kyle, who pulled some papers out of his backpack, handing them to Wendy.

"I want you to put this in tomorrow. Besides, you need something to replace Fatass's column tomorrow. We got busted, there's no way around it. Do me this favor Wends," Kyle said. Wendy took it wordlessly.

"OK, Kyle," she said sweetly. Kyle headed for the door. "Oh, and Kyle?" she asked. He stopped and turned to face her. "Tell Stan I break up." Kyle smiled and left. Wendy went to an open computer and started typing. As she finished, she decided she would do some rearranging. Kyle's piece was longer than a normal Eric Cartman Hitler praise column, so she would have to cut "Letters to the Editor" for this edition. That suited Wendy just fine. There weren't any good ones this time anyway.

_**Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong**_

_**Move along, move along like I know you do**_

_**And even when your hope is gone**_

_**Move along, move along just to make it through**_

_**Move along**_

Kyle decided to take Stan's mom up on her offer to stay for supper. She usually was good enough not to cook pork when he was over. Maybe she'd make Chinese. Kyle liked Mrs. Marsh's Mushoo Chicken. The two walked there from school after Stan's practice, taking a route that would keep them away from Kyle's house.

They walked in to find the Marshes in the kitchen. Dropping their bags in the living room, the couple-Kyle had already relayed Wendy's news-made their way to what Stan was sure would be a "lively discussion."

"Hello, boys," Sharon said from the stove. "Chinese alright with you?" she asked. Kyle gave himself a mental high-five while he replied, "As long as it's not _Shitty Wok_," grinning at the pun he made, very pleased at himself. Stan grinned too, and playfully punched Kyle in the arm.

They actually made it halfway through dinner before Stan's parents coerced Kyle into talking about his relationship with Stan. Kyle was far more liable to remember such things than Stan, who likely would've managed to condense a 15 year relationship into about three sentences. By the time Kyle was finished, it was nearly nine P.M.

"Mrs. Marsh, did you managed to talk to my Mom yet?" Kyle asked. Sharon shook her head no, adding that if Kyle wanted, he could stay the night. Kyle thanked her, and the two boys grabbed their bags and ran upstairs. Kyle had three pages of math homework, and Stan had a full act of _Merchant of Venice_ to read, so by the time both were done with their homework, it was time for sleep, and both teens nodded off.

_**When everything is wrong we move along**_

_**When everything is wrong, we move along**_

_**Along, along, along**_

Kyle didn't worry about anything the next morning, waking up early and getting showered and dressed before anyone else in the Marsh home was even awake. He had waken Stan up, waited while he went through his morning routine, then down to breakfast and off to the bus stop, both munching on toast.

Fatass was there this morning, but neither boy cared. Kyle had relayed his solution to Stan and his parents over breakfast, and Sharon had agreed not to call his mother. Kyle promised he would take care of her himself. Stan both admired and feared for his boyfriend and lover in that instant.

Cartman wouldn't let up on either boy, but they weren't paying attention. Not even Kenny was listening to Cartman's rant and cracks. This is perhaps why Cartman shoved him under the wheels of the bus as it pulled up. The ride to school was just as loud and annoying.

Cartman understood why the Jew wasn't paying any attention to him when he got to school and picked up the paper, turning to the opinion page. The goddamn ass-ramming Jew had written his own article to counter Cartman's wild allegations and insinuations. Like everything the little bastard did, it was cool, reasoned, and well-thought-out. It appealed to every emotion that counterbalanced those Cartman had stirred up. Even worse, it was why the Jew was getting applause and encouragement everywhere he went in school.

GodDAMN him! Stupid little faggy Jew. At least his parents would destroy him. This was enough for Cartman. For once, the bitch would do his work for him. Kyle was putty to her will. Stupid spineless, soulless Jew.

_**When all you got to keep is strong**_

_**Move along, move along like I know you do**_

_**And even when your hope is gone**_

_**Move along, move along just to make it through**_

Kyle left for home right after school. He wasn't going to wait for Stan, even though it was the other's short practice day. This was something he had to do himself. He took two extra copies of the school newspaper as he exited the building, and walked home with his head held high.

_**Right back what is wrong**_

_**We move along**_

Stepping up to his door, he put his hand on the knob and said to himself, "It ends tonight."

-.-

Author's Notes: M'kay, here it is! Nice little lead in to the next chapter, the title of which is the last three words of the story. I should have it up by the end of the week at worst, maybe Thursday. My brothers go back to school Wednesday, so I get a lot more computer time (W00T!), and I really want to get this done before I have to go back to school on the 15th.

Review and get brownies!!

El autor


	4. It Ends Tonight

All-American Rejection, Chapter 4-It Ends Tonight

**Disclaimer: I disclaim that I own any of this.**

**Summary: Kyle stops being a chickenshit and stands up to his mother. Will he smack her in the face and say "That's enough of your shit, you fuckin' bitch?" Read below to find out!**

**Author's Note**: Apologies for the summary…but it does actually best convey what I have planned for this chapter. I've gotten 200 views now, and I'm still looking for more reviews (but then, how many authors here aren't?) Leave a review, get punch and pie!

Thanks to those of you who have been leaving reviews! I appreciate it muchly! Enjoy the new chapter!

-.-

_**Your subtleties**_

_**They strangle me**_

_**I can't explain myself at all.**_

_**And all that wants**_

_**And all that needs**_

_**All I don't want to need at all.**_

Even Kyle was surprised at the speed at which the door opened, presenting an angry and…well…REALLY angry Gerald and Sheila Broflovski. Papers still in his hand, he found himself thrown onto the living room couch while his parents berated him constantly.

"Kyle Broflovski!" his father yelled. "I cannot BEGIN to tell you how disappointed I am with you! You KNOW how we feel about homosexuality! How could you DO this to us?" Kyle's attention swung to his mother, who was recapping everything South Park had experienced with homosexuality, including-much to Kyle's chagrin-Mr. Garrison.

He stared at the clock on the DVD player above the TV and waited for his parents to stop. Eventually he had drowned them out entirely. From 4:00 until 5:30 he found interesting patterns in the wallpaper that looked like him and Stan, Stan and Wendy, him and Stan, him and Stan, Stan, Stan…

**THWACK **

Kyle was jolted from his daydreams at 5:33 by a smack from his mother that sent him to the other end of the couch. Sheila Broflovski was seething. Gerald was sitting in an armchair, still glaring at his son.

"What the fuck was that for?" he yelled at his mother. Instead of the usual "WhatwhatWHAT" she usually shrieked, Sheila Broflovski replied in an acidic tone, "Oh, you know damn well what that was for." She stopped talking then, waiting for Kyle to do what she had probably been telling him to do for the past quarter-hour and get out of her sight. Instead, Kyle rose, guided his mother to a seat on the couch he had just vacated, and handed both his parents a copy of the school newspaper.

"I'll just wait for you to finish," Kyle said, leaning up against the stair railing. "Page two."

_**The walls start breathing**_

_**My minds unweaving**_

_**Maybe it's best you leave me alone.**_

_**A weight is lifted**_

_**On this evening**_

_**I give the final blow.**_

Both Gerald and Sheila turned to page two and began to read.

"_Students and staff of South Park High School. Most of you know me by name at least, and some better than that, but just for shits and giggles, my name is Kyle Broflovski, I'm a senior, and-as of yesterday, thanks to the malicious actions of a certain fatass we all know and despise-an outed homosexual._

"_As Mr. Cartman's article in the Shopper makes perfectly clear, I am in a secret relationship with Stan Marsh. Many of you are aware that Stan is dating Wendy Testaburger, and to an extent, that's true. Wendy, Stan and I have-had-a plan and a schedule that apparently did it's job of keeping you focused on Stan and Wendy's relationship and remaining in the dark about he and I. The reason I'm writing this is so you know how and why Stan and I are together._

"_Any one of you can tell that we've always been close. We became friends in pre-school. Over the past dozen years, that friendship has grown exponentially. We started as friends, became Best Friends, Super Best Friends…where do you really go after that? He has saved my life several times, and I have returned the favor when the situation called for it, and as I was able. We've been through a lot together. We've seen everything from Barbara Streisand to WallMart to crazy aliens from distant galaxy try to destroy our town. We've seen Kenny McCormick die over 100 times. Egg-killing assassins, Satan and the anti-Christ, Crab People trying to take over the world…if it's completely incomprehensible, Stan and I have probably seen it._

"_I've also seen him go through more than one rough period in his life. I've seen his parents separate and get back together, seen him join those creepy emo Goth kids (sorry, if you're reading this "conformist bullshit") and go through more relationship problems than any guy on any soap opera ever aired. It was after his twenty-sixth break-up with Wendy that I told him the real reason why I've only gone out on two dates-I don't like girls. I prefer the companionship of people of my own gender. It was after his twenty-seventh break-up with Wendy that he told me, in smaller words, that he reciprocates those feelings. It was then that we figured out where you go after Super Best Friends: "Friends with Benefits." We have always been open with each other. He hated the secrecy as much as I did._

"_Stan Marsh is the other half of me. We complete each other in a way that neither of us has ever seen in either of our parents. I love him, and he loves me. If you want to believe Eric Cartman and say that I used my "sneaky Jew seduction powers" to corrupt the epitome of heterosexuality, go right ahead. We live in the United States of America, which gives you the right to say whatever the hell you want to. I, knowing that I possess no such powers, will smile, tell you to go get bent, and get on with my life._

"_I hope you show this to anyone who accosts you with that Shopper article. I would be thrilled out of my ushanka if this winds up in there, but I don't plan to give it to them myself. This is my message to you, my friends and classmates. I hope someone shows this to Garrison before she goes even crazier, pulls out what's left of her hair, and decides to kill me. I'm going to show this to my parents. I've had my say; you can now choose who you're going to believe. Me, who has yet to do anything that could be seriously considered a crime, or a nutjob sociopath who refuses to acknowledge that he's fatter than a blue whale, has accused me of masterminding September 11th, has had a kid's parents killed and turned into chili which he then fed to the kid in question, and considers himself to be above everyone in this town, most of the people in this country, and a sizeable portion of the people in the world._

"_If this ends up being the last thing I say to you all, given that I fully expect to either be killed or transferred by my parents to get me away from Stan's "corrupting influence," I want you to know that I have nothing but respect for all of you, even Cartman. I apologize for deceiving you all. I'm sorry to all the girls that I have disappointed by these revelations. I hope you can forgive me, Stan, and-most importantly-Wendy. She doesn't deserve the bad rep we've given her. Without her, I never would've gotten Stan, and even those of you who disapprove of our relationship have to acknowledge that she's a bright person, no matter what you think of her views._

"_Thank you so very much. Sincerely, Kyle Broflovski._"

_**When darkness turns to light,**_

_**It ends tonight**_

_**It ends tonight.**_

Kyle was now sitting on the third stair from the bottom, still watching the clock. He'd handed his parents the papers at 5:35. It was now a quarter 'til seven and they still hadn't put them down. It was just a stupid letter, how engrossing could it be? Kyle was still wondering this at dead-on seven P.M. when his mother set her paper down and headed to the kitchen. She returned with an ice pack and pressed it to Kyle's face where she had slapped him. Gerald finished soon after, and both of them herded him into the kitchen, where Sheila immediately busied herself with making a late supper while making sure Kyle kept the ice pack on his face and Gerald called Stan's house and asking if Stan would mind paying a visit.

Stan had rushed over to the Broflovski's house, arriving in less than ten minutes to find Kyle with the ice pack pressed to his face.

"Kyle?" he said, getting his boyfriend's attention. "What the hell happened to your face?" He hurried to steal a chair and sit next to Kyle to look at it.

"Stan, it's nothing. My parents just got to me a little bit before I got to them. Dude, they were reading that letter for over an hour," Kyle said in a whisper as Sheila brought over some macaroni and cheese and fish sticks.

_**A falling star**_

_**Least I fall alone.**_

_**I can't explain what you can't explain.**_

**_You're finding things that you didn't know_**

_**I look at you with such disdain**_

It completely escaped their notice that there was one member of the Broflovski household that wasn't at the table. Ike, who had been ridiculed all day for Kyle's homosexuality, snuck out of his room and downstairs the second he heard Stan barge in. There he picked up a copy of the school newspaper, still lying where Sheila and Gerald had set them, taking it with him back upstairs.

He read quickly, not really seeing the need for pause and reverent reading. He saw all he needed to see. From his brother's own pen, confirmation of what Ike had so desperately hoped was just another cruel lie by Eric Cartman. Setting the paper down and seething with anger, Ike walked into his brother's room and booted up his computer, going through the activity logs until he found what he was looking for.

**Remote access: 27.158.139.87, 2 November.**

Under this was a list of things Cartman had done with Kyle's computer. Ike was shocked to see only ten things listed. Start up, log in, access IM, log in, initiate chat, initiate webcam chat, close chat, save chat, send chat to shut down.

_**The walls start breathing**_

_**My minds unweaving**_

_**Maybe it's best you leave me alone.**_

_**A weight is lifted**_

_**On this evening**_

_**I give the final blow.**_

Pulling up the saved chat file, Ike watched all of what Stan and Kyle had done that night. It was more than just homework and kissing. Ike got a full lesson in Human Anatomy from watching that, and when it finished, he shut the computer down, disgusted.

"You are DEAD to me, Kyle," he said, heading back to his room.

_**When darkness turns to light**_

_**It ends tonight,**_

_**It ends tonight.**_

_**Just a little insight will make this right**_

_**It's too late to fight**_

_**It ends tonight,**_

_**It ends tonight.**_

He paused at the top of the stairs to hear Sheila talking with Stan and Kyle about their relationship, and not in the negative tones Ike had heard her using not two hours earlier. Fucking Kyle and his fucking genius intellect. Ike would never have expected him to take the stand he had. An appeal to the kindness and forgiving Christian nature of people, exactly the opposite of how Cartman had presented it. He was hoping his mother would have disowned Kyle. He'd expected it completely, and had planned how to take advantage of his new position as Sheila's one and only. No longer would he have to toil in Kyle's shadow, listening to his mother saying, "Well Ike, that's good, but Kyle did it like this and got THIS grade." GodDAMN him.

_**Now I'm on my own side**_

_**It's better than being on your side**_

**_It's my fault when you're blind_**

_**It's better that I see it through your eyes**_

Once back in his room, he pulled out his journal and detailed all these thoughts, then looked over them as he heard Kyle and Stan return to the adjoining room. Not wanting to hear what they got up to that night, he dropped a CD into his stereo and turned it on, relaxing in relief as the first strains of "Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance began to fill the room and block out any noises coming from his "brother"'s room.

_**All these thoughts locked inside**_

_**Now you're the first to know**_

Returning to his journal, he realized there was only one way his dreams were going to come true. Picking his pen up once more, he added five words that would change his life forever.

"_I have to kill Kyle._"

_**When darkness turns to light**_

_**It ends tonight,**_

_**It ends tonight.**_

_**Just a little insight will make this right**_

_**It's too late to fight**_

_**It ends tonight,**_

_**It ends tonight.**_

Back in Kyle's room, two teenage lovers were attacking each other with kisses and general affection.

"Dude, I know that was a hell of a thing you wrote, but even I never expected it to work this well," Stan panted as Kyle started nipping his ear.

"I know dude!" Kyle exclaimed, moving to Stan's neck. "Isn't it fucking awesome!" Stan was beyond words at that moment, and for pretty much the rest of the night as well.

_**When darkness turns to light**_

_**It ends tonight,**_

_**It ends tonight.**_

_**Just a little insight will make this right**_

_**It's too late to fight**_

_**It ends tonight,**_

_**It ends tonight.**_

-.-

**Author's Notes: **Eep! Well, I sat down this afternoon planning to just write the first part, the mini-rants implied and Kyle's letter, but then I got the computer for the rest of the afternoon and decided what the hell, why not finish it?

Look what that's got me. Now, in Chapter 5 (which you can expect on Friday or Saturday), I think we'll focus on this new dynamic in Ike's relationship with Kyle.

Please leave a review! Lurkers are starting to pish meh off.

El Autor


	5. Change Your Mind

All-American Rejection: Chapter Five-Change Your Mind

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Summary: Ike tries to get Kyle killed, but with all of South Park accepting his brother's relationship choice, it might not be as easy as the young Canadian thinks.**

**Author's Note: **You guys are AWESOME! I've gotten over 400 views on this one, which is the second-most amount on any story I've ever written. To be honest, the highest amount is in a huge fandom, but at this rate…I think you'll surpass it. This story also has the second-most reviews, I only need seven before it's my most reviewed…which is kind of sad, but I'll take it! Last chapter was the most reviewed yet, with five out of the twelve. Glad you liked the letter. It was HARD to write.

Flabz/punch and pie for you. Yes, it's quite happy for the two teens.

Lilchicky004/punch and pie for you. Yes, Ike's plan does get very interesting. Read on to see.

Ren85/punch and pie for you. Well, this chapter **_is_** called Change Your Mind. Let's see if there's a reason.

P.P. Bunny/punch and pie for you. Awesome! I'll look out for it…maybe download and listen to the album.

The one called RJLG/punch and pie for you. They are, aren't they? Watch out for Ike…

More punch and pie for reviewers for this chapter!

-.-

_**Don't solve the problem,**_

_**when danger is bitter.**_

_**Fall where we stuck them,**_

_**in cages of tither.**_

The next day, Ike Broflovski exited the bus in front of South Park Middle School, pondering the best way to kill his older brother. He only had a little over three months of full-time access to his older brother before he was at least nowhere close to him, but still in his life. He still needed to die.

He scowled as a group of girls who yesterday had spent all their time ridiculing him for living with "a queer" approached him.

"Ohmygod, you're Kyle Broflovski's brother, right?" the leader of the group asked. Ike looked at them funny. "Yeesssss…" he said, not quite sure where the girl was going with this. He certainly wasn't expecting to have an autograph book and a feathery gel pen pressed into his hands.

"Do you think you could get his autograph for me?" she asked. What the fuck was going on?

"Why do you want his autograph?" Ike asked, bewildered.

"Ike!" she said, in a tone that made it clear she thought the answer was totally obvious, "you're brother's like the bravest guy in South Park! He stood up to your queen bitch dominatrix of a mother, AND he's gay! I've always wanted to know a gay guy!"

"Don't call my mom a queen bitch dominatrix, Emily!" Ike retorted, shoving the book and pen in his bag.

"So you'll do it?" the excited girl asked. Ike scowled. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he said, walking into the building. Was he the only one still disgusted by his brother?

_**And all the bridges you've burned,**_

_**leave you trapped off at all sides.**_

_**And now the tables do turn,**_

_**and it's all gone, what's left for you.**_

After school, he detoured by the house of a certain Frenchboy. If a mercenary wouldn't do it for him, Ike's plans would be effectively nipped in the bud.

"Is this the residence of the Mole?" he asked the pleasant-looking lady who answered the door.

"In his room, Mr. Broflovski," she had replied. "Go right up." As Ike headed up the stairs, she shouted behind him, "Christophe! Ike Broflovski is here to see you!"

Ike reached the door and turned the knob, and was quickly dragged inside by "zhe Mole."

"What zhe fuck do you want?" Christophe asked.

"I need something done. I'd prefer death, but a coma is acceptable," Ike said. Christophe nodded.

"Who is zhe target?"

"Oh, you know him quite well," Ike said. "After all, I've heard it's hard to forget someone whose arms you died in."

"You want me to keel your bruzzer?" Christophe asked. "Are you mad?"

"I'll pay you $2000 up front, plus another two after the job is done."

"Go fuck yourself, Broflovski, I wouldn't keel zat poor, brave bastard for all ze diamonds een South Africa," Christophe replied. "Get ze fuck out of my house." Ike hastily complied. He knew enough not to get on Christophe's bad side.

"Shit," he said to himself, beginning the walk home.

_**And when the sky is falling,**_

_**don't look outside the window.**_

**_Step back and hear I'm calling._**

_**Give up, don't take the fast road.**_

_**It's just your doubt that binds you.**_

_**Just drop those thoughts behind you, now.**_

_**Change your mind.**_

_**You let go too soon.**_

How the hell was he going to get rid of Kyle? He wouldn't be able to poison him, his mother absolutely refused to allow food in between meals, and she had an utter choke-hold on those. He couldn't get someone from the ghetto to do it, they never left and Kyle never went there anymore.

He wanted to be rid of his older brother. Kyle had betrayed him. He'd had to find out about his brother from the NEWSPAPER, of all places. Kyle didn't trust him. Kyle never had trusted him. Always kicking him through windows whenever Ike tried to get close to him, never talking with him, never doing anything, really, with him. Jew Scouts didn't count; their parents had made them do that. Maybe it was because Kyle always resented his parents for not being content with just him. Maybe Kyle didn't want him as a brother, didn't want a brother period.

Well, he didn't want Kyle as a brother. He didn't want a brother, period. Then Ike thought some more. Technically, he didn't have to think of Kyle as a brother. He was gay, so that meant he was a woman in a man's body, making him Ike's SISTER. That didn't really work either…Stan had a sister, and she was a superbitch. Ike didn't want a sister either. He wanted to be the only kid in the house. That wouldn't happen as long as Kyle was around. He COULDN'T wait three months. He COULDN'T. Sure, South Park was accepting of their relationship. Probably because it was weird, and weirdness always won out in this shithole of a town.

_**Sit down, you're sinking,**_

_**there's no one to watch you.**_

_**Skip town, you're thinking,**_

_**there's no one to stop you.**_

When he got home, he'd headed up to his room without a word, turned on his stereo and lay on his bed to think. He must've dropped off, because the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by Kyle to tell him supper was ready. Ike said he'd be right down, and his older brother smiled and left his room. After changing shirts, Ike headed down to supper. It smelled like chicken.

_**And all the bridges you've burned,**_

_**leave you trapped off at all sides.**_

_**And now the tables do turn,**_

_**and it's all gone, what's left for you.**_

After quickly finishing his supper and not sticking around to listen to that night's dinner conversation, Ike had quickly retreated back upstairs to do his homework and think some more about the predicament he found himself in.

Could he possibly completely avoid Kyle for three months? No. Could he limit contact to absolute necessities, like mealtimes and the occasional family outing? Yes. Killing him was, unfortunately, out. He would, however, look forward to Kyle leaving for college. Extremely.

_**And when the sky is falling,**_

_**don't look outside the window.**_

**_Step back and hear I'm calling._**

_**Give up, don't take the fast road.**_

_**It's just your doubt that binds you.**_

_**Just drop those thoughts behind you, now.**_

_**Change your mind.**_

_**You let go too soon.**_

It was eight o'clock, and Ike was putting his homework away, when he remembered something. He plucked the autograph book and pen from his bag, and grudgingly headed over to Kyle's room.

He made sure the door was open and that only his brother was in the room before entering with a light knock to the door.

"Kyle?" he asked. His brother looked up from his computer, where Ike could see he was writing a Physics paper.

"Yeah Ike?" Kyle replied. He looked like his eyes hurt. Apparently he did still feel pain…

"Am I interrupting something?" Ike asked. Kyle actually looked relieved.

"Yeah, actually, but it's a welcome interruption. I've been staring at this screen for two hours trying to figure out something else to write about Planck's Constant," he said. Ike was instantly enthralled. He felt like kicking himself for forgetting about all the things he did with Kyle…like help him with his homework. He walked over to Kyle's computer and scrolled through the paper. He had stuff about the origins of the Constant, and how it was used, but…

"You haven't mentioned the Dirac deviation or how the Constant is implicit in the Heisenberg uncertainty principle," Ike pointed out. Kyle looked stricken. "You sure?" he asked, looking through the paper himself again. "Quite," Ike replied. Kyle looked satisfied when he returned to his current position.

"You're right, I haven't. But I'm sure you didn't come in here to one-up me on my homework again, so what is it you need?" Kyle asked.

"This is probably going to sound stupid, but…one of the girls at school wants your autograph," Ike said, pulling the book and pen out from behind his back.

"Seriously? What the hell for?" Kyle said, taking them and flipping through the book.

"She think's you're the bravest guy in South Park because you stood up to Mom," Ike said, leaving off the second part. He didn't really want to talk to Kyle about…**_THAT_**…yet.

"Aw hell," Kyle said. "Anything special, or just my signature?"

"No, nothing special, 'least not that I heard," Ike told him. Kyle scrawled his name and tossed the book and pen back to Ike.

"Anything else you need?" he asked.

"Nope," Ike replied. "Hit the wall if you get stuck on that paper again." Then he was out of the room, before one of Kyle's pens could make contact with the side of his head. When he got back into his room, his IM on his computer was blinking. He had a message from Kyle.

**Jewfro! Says:**

**You're lucky you're too damn old for Kick the Baby XD**

Ike stuck out his tongue out at the screen and hit out a reply.

**MapleLeaf Says:**

**Bite me.**

He figured that would do the trick. He didn't expect Kyle's reply.

**Jewfro! Says:**

**Nah. Incest is wrong :P**

Ike blanched.

**MapleLeaf Says:**

**Gah! Not cool! Write your paper!**

Kyle didn't reply, and Ike went back to chatting with his other friends. A couple of hours later, he heard a knock on his door.

"What?" Ike asked.

"Ike, it's me. Can I come in?" It was Kyle. Probably coming to talk to Ike about what the little Canadian didn't really want to talk about.

"Sure, I guess," Ike said, spinning his computer chair around as the door opened and Kyle came in.

_**Don't run away,**_

_**Stop feeling fine.**_

_**It's better than your worst, your worst day.**_

_**No words to say, I'll give you mine,**_

_**and pocket all the hurt, and just stay.**_

_**Don't run away.**_

_**It's better than your worst, your worst day.**_

Kyle sat on Ike's bed. Ike set his IM to "Busy" and turned around to face Kyle.

"I wanted to know why you freaked out at me online earlier," Kyle said. Yep. What Ike didn't want to talk about.

"It's just…I dunno…it's weird, y'know? To live with somebody for eleven years, think you know them, and find out that everything you thought you knew was completely wrong," Ike said. Kyle sighed.

"I knew this would happen. Everything you thought you knew about me wasn't completely wrong, Ike," he said. "I'm still the same old me. The only thing that's changed is who I'm fucking and the kinds of porn I'm watching…can you forget that last one?" he asked, sheepishly. Ike grinned.

"Hell no! You ruined half my blackmail material; I need everything I can get!"

"See!" Kyle exclaimed. "We're still talking like we used to, having fun. I really haven't changed. I've just…opened up more."

"What was it like?" Ike asked. The question came out of the blue.

"What was what like?" Kyle replied. Ike spun around and clicked around on his computer. When he turned back around, there was a video file on his screen. Kyle got up and looked closer. It was him and Stan in his room…they had books out…then Kyle recognized the shirt Stan was wearing. It was the same one he was wearing when…oh SHIT!

"Where'd you get this?" he asked.

"It was on your computer. Check under your saved chats."

"What were you doing on my computer?"

"I wanted to see if Cartman was lying. It's weird. Of all the shit he could've done with your computer, all he does is log on to your chat and turn on your webcam. Ten things," Ike said. "Now answer my question."

Kyle was decidedly hesitant. He couldn't use the "you're too young" excuse, Ike had already seen it, and besides, how many kids in his grade (even though they were two years older than Ike) hadn't seen porn, which was what this effectively was. Extremely-low-res porn, but still.

"Weird," he said. "Different, but good. I don't expect you to understand. The Wikipedia article sucks for this, but you've already seen it, and at least you want to know about it. I always have appreciated your ability to accept and question everything at once," Kyle said, flattering Ike. "At least you're asking me about this. Mom and Dad probably would've beaten the crap out of you and grounded you for a year and a half."

_**And when the sky is falling,**_

_**don't look outside the window.**_

**_Step back and hear I'm calling._**

_**Give up, don't take the fast road.**_

"Kyle," Ike said. "I actually want to show you something. Don't get mad at me…I wasn't in the best of moods when I wrote it." He went over to his desk and picked up his journal, flipping through to the most recent entry and handing it to Kyle.

Kyle sat back down and read over the dark thoughts of his adopted brother. The confusion over the constants in his life…his secret hopes, how he'd been ridiculed, and his reactions to the whole situation.

"You have to kill me, huh?" Kyle said, reaching the end. "Ike…aw damnit all. Is that why you've been avoiding me all day?" Ike sheepishly nodded.

"Was it because you were confused? Didn't know what I was doing? Didn't look right, didn't feel right to you?" More nodding.

_**And when the sky is falling,**_

_**don't look outside the window.**_

**_Step back and hear I'm calling._**

_**Give up, don't take the fast road.**_

_**It's just your doubt that binds you.**_

_**Just drop those thoughts behind you, now.**_

_**Change your mind.**_

_**You let go too soon.**_

"Why haven't you then?" Kyle asked. "Mole turn you down? Realize you can't poison me? Remember I don't go to the ghetto anymore?" Ashamed nodding. "Good. Good. Why else? There're more ways to kill me without using intermediaries, Ike," Kyle said.

Ike was almost crying. "Because I forgot about this! The talks we have, the stuff we do together…the fun stuff, the good times. I focused on what I thought was the evil inside of you and thought the only way to get rid of it was to get rid of you! I thought you had betrayed me, that you didn't want me as a brother, that you didn't trust me!" The waterworks were on now, and Kyle walked over and picked Ike up out of the computer chair and brought him over to the bed, where the younger Broflovski clung to his older brother and continued to cry, while Kyle patted him on the head and wiped away the tears.

"Ike," Kyle said when he'd calmed down. "There are some secrets you can't trust anyone with. When you get older, you'll understand. G'night, little bro." He extricated himself from his younger brother's arms, laid the younger boy down and tucked him in before shutting his computer down and leaving his room, flipping off the lights as he shut the door.

_**Don't run away.**_

_**Change your mind.**_

_**You let go too soon.**_

-.-

Author's Notes: Awwwwwwwww…wow. I tried to get Ike off of his "Kill Kyle" binge convincingly and without too much drama. I think I managed the first part, but definitely not the second. I do like it though. If I had working feelings right now, I'd probably cry for poor Ike.

Anyway, next chapter should be up by Tuesday. Leave a review…I'll have punch and pie, and Kleenex if you need it, ready.

El autor.


	6. Night Drive

All-American Rejection: Chapter Six-Night Drive

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**Summary: Slightly divergent from the main plot (sorry!). Non-Style chapter. Guess who's having problems now?** I'm not telling. It's Cartman.

**Author's Notes:** I'm so happy! Really happy! Over 500 pageviews, and tied for my most reviewed! The numbers just keep growing, I got SIX last chapter. A full third of the total! Unfortunately, this chapter is NOT going to be happy. Nor is the next one. I have to kill someone. Don't worry; it won't be my two Style children (quite the opposite, in fact). Style will be delayed a couple chapters for this little mini-arc and a brief new coupling. Stan and Kyle will probably make appearances/be mentioned, but aren't the main focus of these next couple chappies. Sorry!

Reviewers!

Flabz:/gives you punch and pie. Wow, you're really on top of things, first reviewer twice in a row, and 4/5 of the chapters. Sorry, no fun 'til chapter 8…this and chapter 7's lyrics decided to make me misbehave and axe someone. But I think I'm gonna put the prom in chapter 8, so…

Lilchicky004:/gives you punch and pie. Thanks! Nope, no Kyle-murder. I love him too much.

Greyhound Master:/gives you punch and pie. Meh…I have epiphanies like that almost everyday. On the one hand, I hate my youngest brother, but if I got rid of him, I wouldn't have anyone to be angry at anymore. It's a trade-off, and I think he's benefiting from it more than me…

PP Bunny:/gives you punch and pie. Yep, very funny. And complicated by the question if it's incest if the other person's adopted. Be happy while it lasts…which should be until you reach the end of this chapter.

Mizuki Perry:/gives you punch and pie. TYVM. It's kinda hard to flush things out in a songfic…and most of what I'm working with is in the show, or the first chapter. Expand on that, if it helps :D.

Ren85:/gives you punch and pie. Thanks. You know, you're the one who saved Kyle's life there. If you don't like who I kill now…it's all your fault! j/k.

Now…on with the fic!

-.-

_**I know you**_

_**so better than the city in the rear view**_

_**I drive to**_

_**eliminate the ball that I'm chained to**_

He swerved around another deer on the curvy mountain road. Fucking animals. You'd think by now they'd've evolved some sixth sense about knowing when something's coming along to slam into you at sixty-five miles per hour. Something weighing at least three thousand pounds, plus whatever weight the driver added.

In this mid-nineties Chevy pickup, that was an extra 365 pounds, a figure his friends always rounded up to a quarter-ton. Eric Theodore Cartman was on his way out of South Park, trying to escape a couple of problems he had. The first was, obviously, the fucking Jew. Kyle had pulled a complete 180 on Cartman, his short, succinct, rational rebuttal of Cartman's long, rambling, inflammatory diatribe and standing up to the big, fat, fucking bitch. Kyle was supposed to be fucking DEAD, not signing fucking autographs for fucking fangirls.

The second was an even more personal problem. He'd been shot down. He figured, with Stan out of the way with the ass-ramming Jew, he could make his move on Wendy Testaburger. Unfortunately, the ho wanted nothing to do with her. This went beyond bumping his work for the school paper and shredding his letters. He had, in front of practically the whole student body, asked her to prom. He figured, should she deny him, Wendy would be completely ruined. Everybody would think she was such a bitch, she'd never be able to get a date unless she went to Denver. She fucking HAD! In front of hundreds of kids, she had told him, flat-out, "Cartman, there is no fucking way in all of Satan's dark Empire that I would EVER consider going ANYWHERE with you." And she had been APPLAUDED! They had CLAPPED for the bitch!

Cartman accelerated to 70 as he approached another curve.

_**Take me break me**_

_**every mile further there's a part of me that slips away**_

_**One day you'll see**_

_**Even if you got down on your knees you couldn't make me stay**_

Cartman's thoughts went immediately to two people. He first asked himself "What Would Brian Boitano Do?" before realizing that Boitano was a figure skater. Not exactly the best role model for Eric, because Eric was completely sure that all male figure skaters lacked genitalia, and were undeniable homos. Then he asked himself "What Would Adolf Do?" referring to his idol, Adolf Hitler.

Hitler, Cartman decided, would have Kyle and Stan killed for being gay, and then have Wendy subjugated and made to be his. The breaking would have been the most entertaining part of the whole damn thing, Cartman assured himself. Slowly wearing down her resistance, her repulsion of him. Making her see that he wasn't such a terrible person. On, and on, and on, until she could no longer deny herself to him. It would have been a long and drawn-out ordeal, but Cartman wouldn't have minded. He was patient.

He liked taking long drives like this when he needed to think. The adrenaline rush from speeding around the mountains kept the blood flowing to his brain, helping him think.

_**Drive all night**_

_**Never gonna get me**_

_**Night by night**_

_**To get away from it all**_

_**Fight fight fight**_

_**All you wanna do is hurt me**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

There was no way the ho was going to get away with this. Fucking Wendy goddamn Testaburger. Whatever respect and credibility he had left in the town was completely gone, even more so than usual. Cartman had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't be able to get it back this time. He might've gone in over his head this time. He'd first blown open the closet doors to reveal Stan and Kyle locked in each other's arms, and then he'd made a critical error-in his sense-in revealing his feelings for Wendy.

Well, it could've been worse. He COULD have gotten down on his knees with a red rose in his mouth to beg to be her escort to prom. That way, and that way only, could this situation have possibly been worse. Unless he was wearing that Cheesy Poof costume…or a Cupid outfit. Yes, a Cupid outfit, on his knees, with a rose in his mouth. THAT would have been the worst possible situation. He was smarter than that. He knew better than to humiliate himself that way. There were some places even HE wouldn't go, not even for the girl of his dreams.

_**I'll stay strong**_

_**I'm pushing on the pedal till I break dawn**_

_**So I'm gone, go find another shoulder you can cry on**_

He swerved again. This time, it was to avoid hitting a raccoon. He almost fishtailed, and decided if he came across any more goddamn animals, he would fucking hit it and keep fucking going. He didn't have neither the time nor the patience to brake for every stupid creature that didn't have the good fucking sense to stay out of his way. He needed a plan. A damn good one.

_**Take me break me**_

_**every mile further there's a part of me that slips away**_

_**One day you'll see**_

_**Even if you got down on your knees you couldn't make me stay**_

He was at the top of the mountain now, the part with all the benches and binoculars stupid tourists put money in to look around. Parking his truck, he shut it off went to sit on one of the benches. Breathing in the cold night air, he wracked his brain for a way to get Wendy to like him. Getting back the respect of the town was secondary, he lost their respect at least once a month.

Finally, it came to him. It was desperate, and entailed quite a bit of risk, but Cartman was sure that it would work. The only thing left to be determined was the extent to which it would work. Walking back to his truck, Cartman rifled through his schoolbag for a pen and a piece of paper. Uncapping the pen, he began to write.

"_Dear Wendy…_"

_**Drive all night**_

_**Never gonna get me**_

_**Night by night**_

_**To get away from it all**_

_**Fight fight fight**_

_**All you wanna do is hurt me**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

Finishing it off with his trademark flourished signature, he placed the cap back on the pen, and taped the note to the passenger window. By Cartman's plan, that was the one that would be unbroken and in plain view. Since he had also yet to see any other cars on the road that night, he whipped out his cell phone, dialing 911 to report an accident on the mountain road. Then, he started the truck, whipped it around so that he could travel back down the mountain, and floored it.

_**All of the things that you knew that I'd try**_

_**All of the things that I held inside**_

_**All I gotta do is drive**_

He hit the third curve from the bottom going seventy miles per hour, swerved into the mountain itself, then corrected his turn so violently the truck left the road, flipping across the other lane, through its guardrail, and into the trees that littered the side of the road.

The front of the pickup was crumpled, the driver's side door was bent inwards, pressing into the side of Eric Cartman, who had pitched forward, striking the steering wheel and knocking himself unconscious just as the sirens announcing the arrival of the rescue crews could begin to be heard in the distance.

_**Drive all night**_

_**Never gonna get me**_

_**Night by night**_

_**To get away from it all**_

_**Fight fight fight**_

_**All you wanna do is hurt me**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

_**You wrecked my life**_

_**So I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

_**you wrecked my life**_

_**so I'm gonna have to drive all night**_

Wendy Testaburger was awakened by the sudden ringing of her cell phone.

"Hello?" she answered groggily, checking the clock. It was ten thirty; she'd been asleep for an hour and a half.

"_Ms. Testaburger, this is Hell's Pass Hospital. We need you to come down here. There's been an accident, and the patient has asked for you,_" the voice on the other end said. Wendy was confused. Who the hell had wrecked their car and asked for her?

"OK," she said. "I'll be there as soon as I can." Hanging up, Wendy leapt out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt, jeans, and headed downstairs, grabbing her hat, coat, gloves and keys and running out the door and to her car, starting it and heading for Hell's Pass with one question burning in her mind. _Who the hell was asking for her?_

-.-

Author's Note:…and that's where this one ends, folks. Kinda short (actually, shortest chapter yet), I'm sorry about that, but I'll wrap this one up tomorrow or Tuesday with Chapter 7: 11:11 PM. Take a guess and how it's gonna end.

Leave a review! The sooner I get reviews, the sooner I upload new stuff, the sooner we can get back to Stan/Kyle slashy goodness!

El autor


	7. 11:11 PM

All-American Rejection: Chapter 7-11:11 P.M.

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**Summary: Conclusion of this two chapter mini arc. Something happens…at 11:11 PM**

**Author's Notes: **Hurrah! New review record! Note that this update follows quickly on the heels of Chapter Six, but I wanted to 1)Get it over with so I can get back on Style track, and 2) Find myself in a bit of a hurry, and like the prospect of 4 chapters in a week better than 5. Mainly because I feel a need to get this done before I return to college (unless I decide to cheat and email myself the files), and secondly because…well, just because I'm sort of obsessively anal-retentive about having all my files for something in the same place. Bah!

Reviews: Well, only two right now, but that's probably because of the less-than-twenty-four hour turnaround between posting Chapter Six and writing this. Thus, I'm not worried at all. It just means I'll have a lot more to type for eight 8D.

Flabz:/gives you punch and pie. Congrats! You broke the record, and were the first one to review AGAIN! Much thanks! Sit through this one…Chapter 8 should be up Wednesday.

Ren85:/gives you punch and pie. Heheh. It might turn out better than I planned...while I was lying awake last night, I was wrestling with myself over whether or not I need to KILL Cartman. So…meh.

-.-

_**All the windows,**_

_**Swear to miss you,**_

_**And the doors are cell block tight,**_

_**Sweet sedation,**_

_**Sweep the issues,**_

**_And the clock's about to strike_**

_**Did it call you down,**_

_**Are you back just yet,**_

_**Waiting now please come set me free,**_

_**And the only sound is a minute left.**_

Wendy Testaburger burst through the front door of Hell's Pass Hospital and headed for the front desk, curious as to why she was here.

"How may I help you, miss?" asked the nurse on duty.

"I'm Wendy Testaburger, you called me about a half an hour ago," Wendy said.

"Oh yes…Miss Testaburger," the nurse said. She glanced at the trauma room at the end of the hall. "Yes, I think it's safe for you to go in. You should, however, probably read this first." She pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper from the desk and handed it to Wendy, who lit into it.

"_Dear Wendy,_" it began, in a scrawl vaguely familiar to her.

"_I'm going to give you the satisfaction of letting you know that you are the cause of this desperate act. You shot me down, Wendy. I've ejected from the plane, and I'm working my way back to base._

"_I made a mistake letting you know how I feel. I don't normally make errors like that, as you know, but in this case, my thought processes were clouded. They say your love for a person affects the way you think about them, and in my case, it's definitely true._

"_Maybe it was the way that I'm always insulting and caustic to you. You've been around me long enough, Wendy, that I thought you would've picked up that I'm only like that to people I care about. My Mom, my friends, you…I've at times gone out of my way to insult all of you. I call Kyle a fucking Jew and rip on him for that all the time, and we're still sort-of friends. Same with Stan, and Kenny. You could probably say that the way I insult someone is indicative of the opposite way I feel about them. _

"_For you, my 'pet name' was "ho." That means, using the logic I just supplied, that I think you're the most loyal, awesomest girl I know. Bebe I've never insulted that way, and we ALL know she is. I love you, Wendy. I'm sorry I've had to resort to this, but there is no other way. When I get to the hospital, I want them to call your cell (555-9043, you lot) and get you down there. You're the only one I want to see, Wendy._

"_Love forever, Eric Cartman._" With a flourish. Oh, goddamn him. Wendy stormed down to the trauma room, pushing open the door to find…

_**This could be, this could be the last time**_

A banged up, bandaged Cartman. Who didn't even really look like himself. Broken arm, ugly looking sutures over his left side, and the imprint of his steering wheel on his busted face. How he was awake was beyond Wendy.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" she screamed. "This isn't fucking funny, Cartman! You could've KILLED yourself! I've heard of desperation, but this re-defines the TERM!" Cartman was looking at her quizzically.

"Good, the assholes read it," he said, rather weakly. She couldn't tell if he was faking, but a gash like the one in his side WOULD have resulted in major blood loss…

"Excuse me? What the fuck kind of greeting is that?" she asked, still not moving from her place in the door.

"A relieved one, ho. Get over here, unless you want to continue to scream at me from across the room and make everyone within earshot wonder what the fuck is wrong with you," he shot back.

Wendy bristled at Cartman's use of his "pet name" for her, but still found herself walking to his side and pulling up a chair as the clock beeped 11:00 PM.

_**It's a chance to fix mistakes,**_

_**One more for the last time,**_

_**Does it blow our dreams away,**_

_**Don't waste this chance with your smile**_

_**10 seconds left on this dial,**_

_**This could be the last time.**_

"Did you read it?" Cartman asked. He sounded...hopeful, wistful.

"Excuse me?" Wendy replied. Cartman gestured with his uninjured arm at the piece of paper she was still holding.

"My note." Oh. That thing.

"Yes," Wendy replied.

"And?" Cartman asked, settling back and waiting for her to start screaming. Wendy, however, remained silent.

"Wendy?" Cartman asked. He was trying to prompt a response from the girl. She sure seemed angry enough when she'd burst in screaming at him.

"I don't know, honestly," she admitted. "Token and Stan never really tried to kill themselves for me."

"Now wait one goddamn minute," Cartman said. "Appearances aside, this was NOT a suicide attempt. I planned out every last action."

"You PURPOSEFULLY ran yourself off the road, broke your arm, opened your left flank, and smashed your face in?" Wendy asked, incredulous. "Have you even seen yourself lately?"

"No," Cartman admitted, not entirely shocked when Wendy pulled a compact mirror from her purse and popped it open for him.

"Oh, shit!" he said at first, but then looked closer. "Holy shit! This is hella-awesome! I've got a Chevy bruise on my cheek!" He looked like he felt like doing the happy dance.

_**Along the staircase,**_

_**I dream to hear you,**_

_**In a whisper quiet room,**_

_**Space for thinking,**_

_**Space to scream to,**_

_**But the echoes sound like you,**_

_**Not the stars at night,**_

_**In a pitch black sky,**_

_**I don't know just wants to see you**_

_**But the time is right and it only flies**_

Wendy just stared at him. He was…excited…about getting his face busted. Cartman, who was one of the most looks-conscious guys in town…weight issues aside, was happy about this.

On one hand, she mused, he was one of the most interesting people in town. Better than Stan, who had a rather weak stomach, and Token, who cared little about anything that didn't concern his performance in a certain sporting event. Cartman, political differences aside, was always coming up with interesting plans and schemes. Yes, he was rather fat, but he could perhaps be motivated the right way to influence him to lose it. If she played her cards right, she could have him around her little finger, a servant to her whim. All he was asking for was one night…at least right now. It could bloom to something more, if they both let it…and he didn't cause too many problems.

_**This could be, this could be the last time**_

He was still pumped up about his new marking. She didn't really have a problem with that, and as long as he thought she was listening, there was still plenty of time for her to think about what he was after. There was definitely prom. That was the most obvious thing, and they WERE pretty much the only eligible students that remained dateless. After a huge argument/debate/bitchfest, Stan and Kyle had persuaded the administration to let them attend prom together, and most of the other students in the school were already taken.

Her and Cartman. Well, from the neck up, he wasn't THAT bad looking. His hair was silky smooth and beautifully styled. He was highly opinionated, vocal, just like her and completely different from her at the same time. Where she was athletically built for a volleyball player, he was athletically built for an offensive lineman. Where she was female, he was male. Where she was liberal, he was conservative.

How did opposites attract so well?

_**It's a chance to fix mistakes,**_

_**One more for the last time,**_

_**Does it blow our dreams away,**_

_**Don't waste this chance with your smile**_

_**10 seconds left on this dial,**_

_**This could be the last time.**_

She was still thinking to herself when she was interrupted by Cartman leaning over and kissing her on the lips. For someone with practically no experience, he wasn't too bad, Wendy thought to herself as she responded and he pulled back. Fucking tease.

"I take it that's a yes?" Cartman asked with a very selfish and smug grin on his face.

"A yes to what, exactly?" Wendy replied. Cartman chuckled.

"You weren't listening were you?" he asked. She blushed, because she really hadn't been.

_**It's only us,**_

_**It's only now,**_

_**A simple wish,**_

_**It's so late tonight.**_

"What I said was, I'm going to kiss you, and if you kiss me back, I'm taking you to prom," Cartman said. Well, that certainly was convenient. Saved her the trouble of having to expose her newly arrived at feelings.

"Anything else?" she asked. That CAN'T have been all he'd said.

"Actually, yes. If you kiss me again, I'll do three things for you, no questions asked," Cartman said with a fairly smug look on his face, like he'd made her an offer she couldn't refuse. In truth, she couldn't, and quickly captured his lips with hers in a deep kiss, leaving him shocked.

"I've got one for you now, loverboy," she cooed. "If you're taking me to prom, you've got to drop to at least 300 pounds by then. See you tomorrow after school," she said, leaving the room.

Cartman, for his part, leaned back and sighed. Once he couldn't see her anymore through the window in the door, he picked up his phone to call the on-duty nurse and tell her to bring him only vegetables and Jell-O. He looked at his clock as he made the call

_**11:11 PM**_

_**This could be the last time,**_

**_Now I've made our last mistake_**

_**One more for the last time, **_

_**Does it blow our dreams away,**_

**_Don't waste this chance with your smile _**

_**10 seconds left on this dial, **_

_**This could be the last time. **_

**_It's only us,_**

**_It's only now,_**

**_It's so late tonight._**

-.-

Author's Notes: Sorry for another ridiculously short chapter...I think it's the new shortest one. On the other hand, I just checked my story stats…I just broke 600 pageviews! Thanks, you guys! Remember, punch and pie for reviews.

Alright, we've got ourselves another couple, and a great setup into our next chapter: Senior Prom! Forgive me if it looks bad, but I never went to prom myself (never really saw the point), so I can only go on what I've seen in videos of them, and on TV.

Look out for it Wednesday…after three straight days of updates, I think I'll take a break tomorrow and just read what other people put up :D

El autor


	8. Dance Inside

All-American Rejection: Chapter 8-Dance Inside

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

**Summary: The PROM! Style goodness returns! Do you really need more reason to read and review?**

**Author's Notes:** Yes, it's here! Yes, it's not Wednesday. Apparently I miscalculated and I'm leaving THIS upcoming Monday…I've lost a week somewhere/looks around for it. So, chapter a day updates from now 'til Sunday, at which time the fic will be FINISHED! W00t!

Reviews:

Ren85:/gives you punch and pie. Thanks! Yes, of course he will. He's only got one shot, he doesn't wanna frak it up!

Flabz:/gives you punch and pie. Your wish is my command! Hope you enjoy this one! And Ren beat you this time. Oh well…You've still got the lead!

Lilchicky004 (ch6):/gives you punch and pie. Aww, thanks/gives you a band-aid for your heart. There is something endearing to me about a depressed Cartman, though. Mwahahahaha.

Yes. This is a name:/gives you punch and pie. Muchos gracias. Oh, but someone DOES give me punch and pie for this…ME! Lol, thanks again and enjoy!

PPBunny (ch6):/gives you punch and pie. Heh…yay for shock and awe!

PPBunny (ch7):/gives you more punch and pie. D'oh! That should be "drop TO at least 300 pounds." My bad…although would a 65 pound Cartman really be that bad? XD

-.-

_**You don't have to move, you don't have to speak**_

_**lips for biting.**_

_**you're staring me down, a glance makes me weak**_

_**eyes for striking**_

_**now I'm twisting up when I'm twisted with you**_

_**brush so lightly**_

_**and time trickles down, and I'm breathing for two**_

_**squeeze so tightly.**_

_**I'll be fine, you'll be fine.**_

_**this moment seems so long**_

_**don't waste now, precious time**_

_**we'll dance inside the song**_

Spring had come to South Park, and the tension in the High School (at least among the Juniors and Seniors) was palpable. Prom was less than a week away, and all the couples had to finalize their plans. For the guys, this meant finding a tuxedo, making dinner reservations (usually in combination with at least one other couple), renting a limousine (usually in combination with at least one other couple), and getting the final "accessories" their dates would require for that night. For the girls, this meant frantically kibitzing in between (and, who are we kidding, within as well) classes about where they were going to get their hair done, what shoes they should wear with their dresses, what kind of jewelry they should wear to properly accessorize and accent the dresses, where they were getting their nails done, what kind of makeup they were going to wear…on and on and on and on.

For two students, this conversation was somewhat overly simplified. Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski didn't have to worry about the hair, shoes, jewelry, nails, and makeup. They only had to worry about dinner and the limo-they had custom-ordered tuxes that had arrived two weeks earlier. Unfortunately, dinner was the issue at hand. The two were sitting in Kyle's bedroom, and-instead of homework-were discussing what they were going to do the night of prom.

"Stan, I'm perfectly fine with Kenny and Bebe coming with us. But no Fatass, I don't care who he's dating. I don't even want to see the fucker," Kyle said.

"Not even if you barely have to pay a thing?" Stan said. "The place isn't all that expensive Kyle, and Wendy said she'll take a full half of the check."

"Why the fuck's she going with Fatass anyway?" Kyle asked. The Jew was nearly certain that dinner would merely be a series of insults traded around mouthfuls of whatever the hell they ordered.

"Come on, Cartman's a lot better now!" Stan whined. "Wendy's really whipped him into shape over the past couple months. He's down to about 275, he's backed off of the "weir mussen sie Juden ausrotten," what the hell more do you want from him?"

Kyle sighed. "I don't know. I mean, the guy's been nothing but a dick to me for the past ten years. Lovesick puppy or not, I find it hard to believe that he's gotten past that in two months," he said. Stan opened his mouth to reply, but Kyle beat him to it. "Look, if it means that much to you, I'll do it. But if he says one thing that's completely uncalled for, you owe me big. You owe me for just doing this, mind, but it'll only get worse for every time he fucks up."

Stan, knowing completely what Kyle meant when he said Stan "owed him," just nodded. "Okay. I'll let Wendy know. Now...is that everything?" he asked.

"Limo," Kyle reminded him.

"Can you put up with Fatass for an extra 20 minutes?" Stan asked him, biting his lip remembering why he'd intentionally forgotten to bring this up.

"Jesus, Stan, how much do you want to owe me?" Kyle asked.

"Kyle!" Stan complained. "It pays to be friends with rich people! We won't even have to pay for anything!" His boyfriend glared at him. He knew that Wendy was planning on convincing her father to let her use the family's limo and driver, but it meant more time spent with Cartman.

"I know, goddamnit. Fine," Kyle said. "NOW that's everything. What do you wanna do now?"

"I can think of a few things," Stan said, giving Kyle a once-over before leaping onto his boyfriend.

_**What makes the one to shake you down?**_

_**each touch belongs to each new sound**_

_**say now you want to shake me too**_

_**move down to me, slip into you**_

The big day finally arrived. It was about four in the afternoon when Stan arrived at Kyle's so the two of them could get ready. Kyle had been the one entrusted with the tuxes, because he was far more organized than Stan and kept things more orderly. Stan's parents would be over in twenty minutes so that everybody could take pictures of the two before Wendy and Cartman arrived with Kenny and Bebe to pick the two up and head to the same restaurant Stan and Wendy had dined the first night of the charade.

"Why hello Stan," Sheila said, answering the door. "Kyle's in his room. Now remember, your parents are going to be here in twenty minutes, and your ride will be here in half an hour, so no fooling around," she admonished him with a wagging finger.

"I won't do anything, Mrs. Broflovski," Stan said with his winning grin before slipping past her and up the stairs, knocking on Kyle's door.

"It's unlocked, Stan!" Kyle's voice answered him. Stan twisted the knob and entered Kyle's room, pushing it shut behind him. Standing in front of the closet was Kyle, who had already gotten his shirt on, and was working on the pants.

"Explain to me," he said in a gasping voice, "why we had to get such tight pants?" Stan chuckled at his boyfriend's situation.

"Rawr," he said, making a clawing gesture towards Kyle. "Do we have to go to dinner? You look good enough to eat."

Kyle rolled his eyes. If it wasn't one lame line, it was another. "YES, we have to go to dinner. Now help me get these damn things shut, without grabbing my crotch, if you think you can cool your heels enough."

Stan put on a hurt look as he walked over to Kyle, knowing exactly how to get Kyle to suck in enough to get his pants to close. He walked behind him and ran his finger up and down the other boy's spine. It worked, but Kyle's hands were trembling as he finally got the button through the buttonhole. Slipping on his vest and jacket, Kyle turned to face Stan, and he only had two words for his lover.

"You bastard." Stan laughed out loud at this, and turned to the closet to find his own tuxedo still in its plastic wrapping. Quickly stripping out of his jeans and tee-shirt, he repeated the same procedure as Kyle, except his pants fit without any extra effort. Pulling out a shoe box, he slipped on the Marine-drill-sergeant-approved shiny black shoes and stood to face Kyle.

"Ta-da!" he exclaimed, as Kyle's mom's voice floated upstairs.

"Kyle? Stan? Are you two ready up there?"

"Yes, mom!" Kyle called back. "We'll be down in a minute."

He checked himself out in a mirror as he left his room.

"We look like Chippendales," he remarked. "And I've got a feeling mine is two very small steps from being a leather bitch outfit." Stan laughed as he straightened Kyle's bow tie and they headed downstairs, where they were immediately greeted by a series of camera flashes.

"OW!" Stan said, rubbing his eyes. "A little warning please?"

They spent the next ten minutes in various poses suggested by their parents, until they heard a car horn outside. It was Wendy's limo, and with repeated good-byes, they left Kyle's house and got in the limo, seated on the bench seat nearest the doors.

_**She sinks in my mind as she sheds through her skin**_

_**touch like taste like fire**_

_**hands to know what eyes no longer defend**_

_**hands to fuel desire**_

_**I'll be fine, you'll be fine**_

_**this moment seems so long**_

_**don't waste now, precious time**_

_**we'll dance inside the song**_

It was a ten minute drive to the restaurant, one that featured a remarkably silent Cartman, who spent the drive as close to Wendy as he could, just nodding as the rest of the group talked about their preparations.

Once they arrived, they were quickly seated and waited on. They saw a few of their classmates there as well. Kenny ordered a steak (he would), Bebe and Wendy both ordered Salads, Cartman ordered a vegetarian lasagna, Stan ordered roasted chicken, and Kyle had the lamb chops, almost sure Cartman would make a snide remark about how the Jew was killing another Lamb. To his continued surprise, no such remark was forthcoming as the waiter left a bread basket and headed off to the kitchen with their orders.

Talk soon drifted to their outfits. Kenny was wearing a cheap rental tux, standard black and white that had been "Kennyized" with the addition of orange suspenders and an orange pocket handkerchief-thing. Bebe wore a red satin dress with a low-cut top and a very low-cut back that had sequins around the waist and down the sides. Wendy was in a purple dress with similar design. Cartman's tux was mostly burgundy, down to the stripes on the pants. Everybody, however, was far more interested in Stan and Kyle's tuxedoes.

"Where'd you get them?" from Wendy

"How much did they cost?" from Kenny

"You guys look fucking HOT!" from Bebe

"Interesting choice. What's up with the tight pants, and why does Kahl's look like it's two very small steps from being a leather bitch outfit?" from Cartman.

"Damnit, Stan, I told you!" Kyle said, before realizing who'd said that.

"I dunno, Cartman. You'd have to ask Stan…he's the one who sent in the measurements. I think he took at least two inches off my waist on purpose," he replied, in a fairly civil tone, considering he still hadn't beaten the crap out of Cartman for his expose.

"So, does that mean he's the dom?" Kenny asked. Kyle went red in the face as he swung to address his poor friend.

"Only half the time…well, more like 43.75 percent of the time," he said. Kenny raised his eyebrows, while Wendy whispered to Bebe "I TOLD you they switched!" and Bebe handed the other girl a twenty from her purse.

Cartman took it a lot better. "Very interesting, Kahl. However, I believe our food is arriving." The others turned around, and sure enough it was.

As they were being served, Kyle whispered to Stan, "Dude, who turned Cartman into Mister Spock?" Stan shrugged.

The rest of the meal went without incident, or really anything. The girls talked about girl things, Cartman and Kenny talked about how badly the Rockies were going to suck, and Stan and Kyle talked about how weird Cartman was acting, coming to the conclusion that he was determined to show Wendy that he wasn't a complete and total fucking douchebag.

They then paid the bill and got back in the limo to head to the school for pictures and the Grand March. Then there would be the dance, where pretty much everybody just moved around with their date and talked. Then there was the announcement of royalty, the theme dance, and then they could go home…or to a hotel, depending on your plans.

_**What makes the one to shake you down?**_

_**each touch belongs to each new sound**_

_**say now you want to shake me too**_

_**move down to me, slip into you**_

The three couples were even together for the Grand March. They'd all lined up outside the gymnasium, waiting to be introduced to all the people who had no life enough to go to something like this and the rest of their classmates.

The first couple had been "Heidi Turner, escorted by Clyde Donovan." Heidi was co-captain of the cheerleading squad, and Clyde was "the best straight man" who played sports for the Cows. It progressed through another half hour and twenty more couples until

"Bebe Stevens, escorted by Kenny McCormick." Kenny led Bebe through the archway into the decorated Gymnasium. There were streamers and balloons everywhere. A DJ had set up shop in one corner, and the Juniors who did the decorating had set up a fountain, of all things, in the middle of the gym. After a quick taste test to confirm that there was no alcohol flowing through it, Kenny led Bebe over to a spot near the back wall so they could watch…

"Kyle Broflovski, escorted by Stan Marsh." There were a few deriders, but Kyle flipped them off once the spotlight was off them. He too tasted the liquid flowing through the fountain, and was just as disappointed as Kenny that there was no alcohol in it. He could have used some. Stan, for his part, led his "bitch" back to stand by Kenny and Bebe, so they could watch…

"Wendy Testaburger, escorted by Eric Cartman." The last couple of the night followed Stan and Kyle through the arch, and walked with much dignity past the fountain (neither Wendy nor Cartman paused for a taste test) an over to the back. Once they were out of range of the spotlight, it shut off and the DJ began to play.

To everyone's delight, he was a favorite DJ of theirs from a radio station in Denver who played pretty good music. There was stuff from My Chemical Romance, Evanescence, Shakira, Jay-Z, a broad range of music.

The dance went on for about an hour and a half before the principal stepped up to the platform. The spotlight turned on, and the music stopped.

"Good evening, everyone," he began. "It's time to announce our Prom King and Queen for 2007. The finalists for Queen, and would you please come up here when I say your name, are…Wendy Testaburger, Bebe Stevens, Heidi Turner, Sally Turner, and…Kyle Broflovski."

"Oh Jesus Christ," Kyle said, his face going as red as his hair as he joined the parade of girls headed to the platform.

"The finalists for King, also come up here when I say your name, are…Clyde Donovan, Token Black, Kenny McCormick, Christophe DeLorne, and Stan Marsh." Stan headed up to join the other boys, the principal was handed another envelope.

"Fourth runners-up: Heidi Turner and Clyde Donovan. Third runners-up: Sally Turner and Token Black. Second runners-up: Bebe Stevens and Kenny McCormick. First runners-up: Wendy Testaburger and Christophe DeLorne! That means, our King and Queen are Kyle Broflovski and Stan Marsh. Well, congratulations to the two of you!" the principal said, quite shocked with the results. He presented the two with their sashes and crowns (Kyle frowned at wearing a tiara, especially with the Jewfro), and led them down onto the dance floor, motioning to the DJ to start up the last song.

_**Ooo, ah**_

_**Ooo, ah**_

_**Ooo, ah**_

_**Ooo, ah **_

Stan smiled at Kyle as "Because of You" by Kelly Clarkson started to play.

_I will not make the same mistakes that you did_

_I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery_

_I will not break the way you did_

_You fell so hard_

_I've learned the hard way, to never let it get that far_

Kyle smiled back as his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him. Stan returned the favor, holding Kyle close as they swayed back and forth to the music.

_Because of you_

_I never stray too far from the sidewalk_

_Because of you_

_I learned to play on the safe side_

_So I don't get hurt_

_Because of you_

_I find it hard to trust_

_Not only me, but everyone around me_

_Because of you_

_I am afraid_

The spotlight was once again on them, as Kyle shut his eyes and inhaled Stan's scent. He still resented being the Queen, because everyone was sure to think Stan was the dominant all the time, which wasn't true at all, and…Kyle was over thinking again. Calming himself down, he followed Stan's lead around the gym.

_I lose my way_

_And it's not too long before you point it out_

_I cannot cry_

_Because I know that's weakness in your eyes_

_I'm forced to fake, a smile, a laugh_

_Every day of my life_

_My heart can't possibly break_

_When it wasn't even whole to start with_

Stan was enjoying this. Having his Kyle close up against him…he only wished that there weren't so many people around. He wanted to ravish Kyle in his tight little tuxedo, which Stan HAD taken two inches off his waist on purpose, and DID look like it was two very small steps away from being a leather bitch outfit, right there on the dance floor.

_Because of you_

_I never stray too far from the sidewalk_

_Because of you_

_I learned to play on the safe side_

_So I don't get hurt_

_Because of you_

_I find it hard to trust_

_Not only me, but everyone around me_

_Because of you_

_I am afraid_

People had commented on the suit all night. Most of those commenting were girls, who remarked that Kyle looked very hot in the outfit, very fuckable, and that it accented his ass beautifully. Stan had just replied, "He does," "He does indeed," and "I know."

_I watched you die_

_I heard you cry_

_Every night in your sleep_

_I was so young_

_You should have known better than to lean on me_

_You never thought of anyone else_

_You just saw your pain_

_And now I cry_

_In the middle of the night_

_For the same damn thing_

Stan saw cameras going off in the corner of his eye, and instantly knew the best way to close out this prom. Moving one of his arms up from Kyle's back, he tilted his boyfriend's head up to face his.

_Because of you_

_I never stray too far from the sidewalk_

_Because of you_

_I learned to play on the safe side_

_So I don't get hurt_

_Because of you_

_I tried my hardest just to forget everything_

_Because of you_

_I don't know how to let anyone else in_

_Because of you_

_I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty_

_Because of you_

_I am afraid_

Kyle knew what Stan was planning, and to be honest, he probably would have done the same thing in his position. He leaned up to meet Stan.

_Because of you_

_Because of you_

As the last strains of the song filtered through the gym, under the spotlight, Prom King Stan Marsh kissed Prom Queen Kyle Broflovski. It was a gentle kiss at first, and went from there to one of passion, all as the cameras flashed away and the spotlight clicked off.

"God DAMN I love you," Stan said as the gym lights began to turn back on and the other students began to leave.

"God damn I love you back," Kyle said. "I think we need to get back to my house as quick as we can." Stan just nodded, and led Kyle through the exit, looking for Wendy, Cartman, Kenny and Bebe.

_**And I'll be fine, you'll be fine**_

_**is this fine? I'm not fine**_

**_give me pieces; give me things to stay awake_**

Not entirely surprisingly, they had to drag Kenny and Bebe out of a dark corner to get them into the limo, which drove off for Kyle's house at a little over the posted speed limit. The ride home was filled with Stan and Kyle listening to Wendy and Bebe talk about how hot they were, and how fucking cool Stan was for kissing Kyle at the end of the song.

As the limo slowed down, Stan and Kyle made ready to run to Kyle's house. They both needed to get upstairs. They needed it badly. The tuxedo pants weren't exactly the best for hiding the desire both boys felt for each other. Flipping through his key ring, Kyle finally found his house key and turned it in the lock, slipping himself and Stan in and locking it behind them as they headed upstairs.

_**What makes the one to shake you down?**_

_**each touch belongs to each new sound**_

_**say now you want to shake me too**_

_**move down to me, slip into you**_

They barely got into Kyle's room and locked that door before the passion took them over. Jackets were shed, vests were unbuttoned, bow ties were removed, shirts were untucked and unbuttoned, pants were undone, shoes were removed, pants were taken off, shirts were taken off, the tuxedoes were laid sort-of-nicely in the corner, socks were removed, undershirts were removed, and their pant counterparts followed soon after as Stan and Kyle fell onto Kyle's bed and slid under the covers.

"God, Kyle, I love you so much," Stan said as his boyfriend started to leave a hickey on his neck.

"You know, Stan, Cartman may have behaved himself, but I'm still going to get you back for that little stunt you pulled while we were getting dressed," Kyle whispered as his hands snaked downwards and Stan gasped.

_**What makes the one to shake you down?**_

_**each touch belongs to each new sound**_

_**say now you want to shake me too**_

_**move down to me, slip into you**_

Meanwhile, after dropping Kenny and Bebe off at Bebe's house, Wendy and Cartman took the limo back to her house.

"You know, Eric, I'm really impressed with the way you behaved tonight," Wendy said as they got out of the limo and headed inside.

"I think you might work out after all."

-.-

Author's Notes: Wheee!! OK, here's a nice long chapter to make up for those two short ones before this. Actually, it's the longest chapter yet...hmm. Hope you enjoyed the slashy goodness of Style, and the little bit of Cartman/Wendy and Kenny/Bebe (the two biggest whores of their respective genders in the school, why not?)

Leave a review! It's the little purple button right below this on your left.

Thanks!

El autor


	9. Top of the World

All-American Rejection: Chapter 9-Top of the World

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Summary: The couples try to get through Finals.**

**Author's Notes:** I have a bad feeling that this chapter is going to be hard to write. More strange lyrics…bah. I think the next time I start a Style story, I'm going to stay as far away from music as I possibly can…except for listening while I write. That's still good.

Reviews:

Yes. This is a name:/gives you punch and pie. Thanks, will do!

Ren85:/gives you punch and pie. LOL, here you go then!

Lilchicky004 (ch7):/gives you punch and pie. Glad you're happy then!

PPBunny:/gives you punch and pie. Nope, I don't. Care to enlighten? Ch7 DOES say "drop TO," btw, I re-read it last night…if that's what I cheated about…;S

Lilchicky004:/gives you punch and pie. Same with mine. We had at least one gay kid in each grade, and a couple years ago one of them wanted to take his BF to prom…school board said NO! Thanks!

The one called RJLG:/gives you punch and pie. I know, lol. If I had any art skillz whatsoever (I don't even have skills), I'd try drawing that.

Flabz:/gives you punch and pie. Hehe, wouldn't anyone? You're at the top of the list , if that means anything…

On to the hard-to-write chapter…:(

-.-

_**Is there anybody out there?**_

_**That wakes up with a bitter taste?**_

**_It's a king that we put up there_**

**_And he's a short way to fall from grace_**

**_It's slowly filling upward._**

_**You can stand but you have no ground.**_

_**I hear it from the lost words.**_

**_They say it's time that you lost your crown._**

"Why does God allow Finals?" Stan Marsh asked his boyfriend. "I mean, seriously. They already test us over all this stuff, what the hell is the fuckin point of doing it again when we've forgotten half of it?"

Kyle sighed and sat down the flash cards he was trying to use to get Stan to recall various Math formulas and theories. "I dunno," he said. "Maybe it's just a vast conspiracy to try and get as many students as possible to fail so they can torture them for another semester." Stan lit up at this.

"Oh, Christ, here we go again," Kyle said. Stan had always had a thing for conspiracy theories, ever since that incident with 9/11 and President Bush back in the fourth grade.

"THAT'S IT!" Stan exclaimed. "They're just trying to make sure they have enough students to keep their jobs! I'm not gonna play their game!" He was on his knees on the bed, bouncing around and pointing his finger at Kyle.

"Stan," the redhead interrupted. "I've got two reasons why you will. One, if you don't, you fail and get held back, and don't get to college with me, which leads me to Two: No sex if you don't."

"You bastard!" Stan yelled in a scarily close imitation to a fourth-grade Kyle. "Why do you always do that?" he asked as he settled back down and Kyle picked up the flash cards again.

"Because it always works. If you want to get Stan to do something, ask his dick first," Kyle said. "Now, this is an easy one: give me the Pythagorean Theorem."

"a-squared plus b-squared equals c-squared," Stan replied dutifully. Kyle switched to the next one.

"Law of sines…"he said. Stan groaned.

_**Don't be so greedy.**_

_**A dollar's a penny to you**_

_**When hearts are beating**_

_**Say what you want 'em to do.**_

_**Wasting away... I see you.**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

_**Finding a day, don't wanna be you**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

Down the road at the Testaburger house, Wendy and Cartman were going through a similar argument. The only difference was, instead of Math, they were studying for their Civics final.

"What's the difference between Separation of Powers and Checks and Balances in the Federal system?" Wendy asked.

"Er…separation of powers splits the government into separate branches, checks and balances makes sure none of these branches have more power than any other. Damn it, what is the point of this?" Cartman replied.

"So we get good enough grades on the Final not to fail Civics and go to college, Eric!" Wendy replied.

"Yeah, but why do we have a final in the first place? We've already LEARNED this stuff!" Cartman complained. "We've even been TESTED over it already! Why do we have to do it again?"

"I don't know," Wendy said. "I've never really thought about it. There's probably some reason that they came up with back before some of our teachers were even born," she said.

"That's dumb," Cartman said. "I don't want to have to do this. Finals suck."

"We can stop with Civics for a while," Wendy said. "How's your English paper coming along?"

"Eh, it's OK," Eric said. "A research paper on the Roman Empire? For seriouslah, Wendy, it's not like there's a lacking of information, but…what the hell on the topic?"

"Well, let me see what you've got," Wendy said. Eric took a flash drive out of his pocket and plugged it into Wendy's computer, accessing the file on it. The paper was hovering around eight pages, and some of the grammar needed work, but it wasn't too bad.

"What do you think?" Cartman asked. "I know I need a little more on the Emperors, and the Republic section could probably use a little more work, but…"

"No, it's good," Wendy said. "Mine's longer, but…"

"Can I see it?" Cartman asked. Wendy sighed and pulled her paper up. Hers was hovering around twelve pages and had a different thesis, but Cartman scrolled through the whole thing, pausing over certain sections.

"No stealing!" Wendy admonished him.

"Wasn't gonna!" Cartman said. "Just looking for some additional references. I don't have anything from some of these sources. Jesus, how fucked up WAS Nero, anyway?" Wendy just shrugged.

_**Is there anybody out there?**_

_**That can see what a man can change?**_

_**It's better that you don't care**_

_**Because he knows that he's in his state**_

_**I feel the paranoia.**_

_**When there's a time, put you in your place**_

_**In the eyes of those who watch ya**_

_**Well they can wait 'til you hit your face**_

At school the next day the Senior class took the first of their finals, which were spread out over the next two days. Day One was for the core subjects, Days Two and Three were for electives. The students had been given exam schedules, and on Days Two and Three when they didn't have an exam they could do whatever. Some students, like Stan and Kyle, had all their exams in the first two days and as a result would get an extra day off. After exams were finished, the seniors would have the rest of the school year until Graduation off.

Until then, they were stuck in the classroom. The English Final had been first, held in one of the computer labs. Perhaps the simplest of the Core exams, their teacher had given them the hour and a half to finish writing and correcting their research papers, then left the room for coffee.

Naturally, the students began to discuss the best inclusions and corrections for their papers amongst themselves. Stan was fixated on a Wikipedia entry that was conflicting with his thesis. He tugged on Kyle's sleeve to get his attention.

"How the hell am I going to get around this?" he asked. Kyle was inclined to move the mouse to close out the window, but knew Stan would kill him. Instead, he read the article twice, finally finding a small glimmer of hope. Stan took it and ran with it. Kyle had had his paper complete for a week, grammatically corrected to perfection and airtight in its logic and reasoning. Thus, he spent his exam period browsing through and helping Stan. When their teacher came in with five minutes left in the period, Kyle printed his paper off and turned it in, collecting his stuff and getting ready to head off to his next exam.

Their next exam was Math. Kyle was able to breeze through it, making sure to hold his test paper at an angle that would allow Stan to see questions without straining and making it obvious. They'd spent two hours the night before on the laws and theorems, and Stan was still having difficulty with the Laws of Sine and Cosine.

After that was their Anatomy Final. Grinning, Stan and Kyle presented their final project on hormonal attraction after a period of hushed whispering and minor corrections to phrasing and grammar.

Their final exam that day was Civics. This was the hardest exam for both boys, for different reasons. Kyle had difficulty because he kept switching the Ninth and Tenth Amendments to the Constitution around, and Stan had difficulty because he kept getting hung up on Separation of Powers and Checks and Balances. Wendy and Cartman had little difficulty with the exam, but that, Kyle reasoned, was because both were politically active and knew their stuff about Government.

_**Don't be so greedy.**_

_**A dollar's a penny to you**_

_**When hearts are beating**_

_**Say what you want 'em to do.**_

_**Wasting away... I see you.**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

_**Finally a day, don't wanna be you.**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

Day two brought another round of exams, easy for the most part.

First was the Spanish exam. As it was the 8:00 A.M. exam, their teacher departed from her normal test setup and instructed them to write a two-page letter in Spanish to someone else in the class. Stan and Kyle, barely repressing laughter, wrote lengthy, occasionally profane, angsty and overall ridiculous love letters to each other.

Example, from Kyle to Stan:

_Estimado Stan,_

_Te quiero tanto. He sido bendecido con la felicidad eterna desde entonces usted paró jodiendo Wendy y empezado golpeando mi asno apretado. Yo le quiero tan mal, duele. ¡Por favor, viene me toma en este momento!_

Following the Spanish exam, the two headed to their Computer Information Technology class final, which was to design a webpage on the topic of their choice using anything they had learned that semester. Stan html coded a fanpage about Jewfros, getting "The Hanukkah Song" to play anytime someone accessed the page, and Photoshopped an image of Kyle's hair into prominent display. Kyle did one on the South Park sports teams, with a bunch of pictures of Stan doing various Athletic things displayed throughout. For the grade, they printed off a screenshot of the product and the actual coding of the webpage, stapled them together, and turned them in, laughing their way to Physics, the one mathematically-based Science Stan was able to understand.

That exam was marginally hard, at least in terms of problems posed the students, but both Stan and Kyle managed to finish in the allotted time. Kyle barely had time to check his work over before their teacher called for the tests, Stan had gone over his twice, making a couple of corrections to his work. He wouldn't be a Nobel laureate in Physics, but it wasn't over his head, either.

Their final "exam" that day was for P.E. Since there was obviously no way to test P.E. learnings on a "fill-in-the-bubble" form, their teacher set up an obstacle course on the football field and had them all go through it, grading them based on their times. After that, Stan and Kyle were quite glad that they had the next day off.

_**Paint yourself a picture**_

_**When you waste another picture**_

_**And you win, and you win, and you win**_

_**Paint yourself a picture**_

_**And then you break another picture**_

_**And you win, and you win, and you win**_

_**And you win, yeah you win, and you win**_

Kyle and Stan spent the next day quite differently from Wendy and Cartman. The latter two had had half the previous day off because of their exam schedule, and would have half this day off as well, but still had to go to school for the 8:00 exam and the 1:30 exam. Kyle and Stan weren't even awake until Cartman and Wendy were headed back home at 9:30. After that, they quickly ate breakfast and headed downtown to meet each other at the arcade.

Wendy and Cartman had headed home for some additional studying for their 1:30 exam, Advanced Chemistry. After two hours of rehashing the use of Moles in Chemistry (something to which Cartman had first commented "What the hell does that British piece of shit have to do this this?"), they took a break for lunch and headed back to school.

After they finished, they too headed down to the arcade. They needed some relaxation, and were sort of surprised to see Stan and Kyle going at it on the DDR machine.

"This time, I'm gonna kick your ass, Kyle!" Stan said, jumping down for the second it took to insert a couple more quarters into the machine.

"You're just jealous because the nerdy Jew is kicking your athletic ass!" Cartman shouted out, assessing the situation from the smug look on Kyle's face to the pumped up Stan.

"Shut up, Cartman! He is not!" Stan shouted back as the game started. Cartman just looked at Wendy.

"He always does. I don't know how Kyle got those skills, but he can't lose at DDR unless it happens within the first five games," he said. "I don't think we're going to get a chance at that…what do you think we oughta do?" Cartman said.

"Laser tag?" Wendy suggested. It was a game she loved playing with Cartman. She could use him as a human shield while she looked for a target, and he was an ace marksman.

"Hells yeah!" Cartman said. "Let's go, I see those seventh-graders that almost beat us last time!"

_**Don't be so greedy**_

_**A dollar's a penny to you**_

_**When hearts stop beating**_

_**Say what you want 'em to do**_

_**Wasting away... I see you**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

_**Finding a day, don't wanna be you**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

The two couples met up later in line to order a pizza. Kyle and Stan had more than broken a sweat at DDR, and Cartman and Wendy were sweaty from running all over the laser tag arena chasing seventh graders. They decided to combine their orders and have an impromptu double date.

Once they found a place to sit down, the talk drifted quickly to exams.

"All of ours were easy as hell," Kyle said. "I mean, for me at least. English I'd had done for a week, Math is easy, Anatomy…well, how the hell do WE not pass Anatomy. Spanish, we just had to write stupid letters, CIT we had to make a webpage, Physics and Civics were the only ones I really had any trouble with. I'm not even going to count P.E."

"Speak for yourself," Stan grumped. "English was the stupidest thing ever. Who gives a shit about the Roman Empire? They're all dead!" That earned him a look of satisfaction from Cartman. "Math sucked, Anatomy was easy…Spanish was hilarious, CIT wasn't so bad, Physics was fucking simple, and Civics…was Civics."

"Yeah, English sucked ass," Cartman said. "Math and Anatomy weren't too bad. Same with Civics. I HATED my French exam, and what the hell was up with P.E.? Then Western Civ and Advanced Chem today…damn, I'm glad this is over."

"I thought they were all easy," Wendy said. "Except for French. I'm starting to wish I would've taken Spanish instead. I mean, who the hell speaks French? Stupid fucking language if I ever heard one. I think I'll take Spanish in college. It can't be too hard to learn, can it?" she asked that question to Stan and Kyle.

"Easy as hell," Stan replied, while Kyle nodded. He was munching on a piece of the just-arrived pizza. Stan grabbed a piece once he answered Wendy's question. Before he took a bite, he posed a question of his own.

"What are you guys gonna do on your days off?"

"I dunno," Cartman said. "I figured while I'm waiting for my grades, Wendy and I can finalize our plans for how we're going to start taking over the world…" he trailed off, laughing as Wendy mock-punched him in the arm. "What're you two going to do?"

"Well, one of Kyle's weird relatives gave him a Kama Sutra book at his Bar Mitzvah…probably go through that and see how many we can adapt to ourselves," Stan said with a silly grin on his face. Kyle blushed, Cartman went pale and Wendy turned a light green.

"Aw, lighten up. Even WE'RE not good enough to go like 150 times in eight days," Stan said. "40 max, unless Kyle can get his hands on some Viagra." Cartman threw the salt shaker at him.

"You guys are no fun," Stan pouted, reaching for another piece of pizza.

_**Wasting away... I see you**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

_**Finding a day, don't wanna be you**_

_**When the top of the world falls on you**_

-.-

Author's Notes: Ok…that wasn't so bad. It only took two hours. Well, two and a half. And it doesn't really fit the lyrics at all. But the last few songs don't get any better, so…the next couple might not make sense, then in Chapter 12, I think I'll actually follow the lyrics a bit closer, which will lead into the epilogue, which will NOT have a song. Thank god.

For those of your Bilingually challenged, here's what Kyle wrote (I used the best, but there you go. My Spanish is too rusty to translate that all myself. Give me a few months of the Spanish class I start next week…meh).

"Dear Stan,

I love you so much. I have been blessed with eternal happiness ever since you stopped fucking Wendy and started pounding my tight ass. I want you so badly, it hurts. Please, come take me right now!"

Read and review, please! I'm starting to get really happy with the number of reviews I've been getting, don't let them go down!

El autor


	10. Straightjacket Feeling

All-American Rejection: Chapter 10-Straightjacket Feeling

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Summary: A breakup occurs. Serially, I'm not saying who. Try to guess.**

**Author's Notes:** Alright! Just three days left after today! Hopefully, I can hit 1000 pageviews with this chapter. There will be little hints as to who is breaking up throughout the chapter, but I'm not going to TELL until the end. Let me know in you're reviews where you figured it out…and it definitely won't be the Style boys. There's your first hint, which I'll make blatantly obvious in the first paragraph D.

Speaking of reviews:

PPBunny: Ok, more for me then! But actually, Dance Inside _is _on the album. Track 8, according to which is where I'm getting my lyrics.

Ren85:/gives you punch and pie. Heheh…well, either way, it's funny! Danke!

Flabz:/gives you punch and pie. Comprehensive finals suck major ass. I was just lucky enough not to get one yet in college, but that'll probably change this semester…(

Lilchicky004:/gives you punch and pie. Perhaps conspiracytheorist!Stan is onto something?

-.-

_**Back me down from backing up**_

_**Hold your breath now it's stacking up**_

_**Etched with marks, but I can deal**_

_**And you're the problem and you can't feel**_

_**Try this on, straitjacket feeling**_

_**so maybe I won't be alone**_

_**Take back now, my life you're stealing**_

"That fucking bitch!" the young teen screamed, throwing another fragile item against his wall, just to hear it break.

He'd gone over to her house to pick her up for a date, heading up to her room to find her going down on Token. The words "You fucking bitch," or some variation thereof were the only things he'd said for the past two and a half hours.

He told himself he shouldn't been that angry, he knew that the prom was most likely a one-time deal, born of the fact that no one else would take either of them, but that didn't work. He was still very pissed of at her. You DON'T go screw somebody else half an hour before you have a date with somebody. PROSTITUTES had better sense. REAL prostitutes, not just the Paris Hilton wannabes that were the closest you could get in this jerkwater mountain town.

Throwing himself on his bed, he started to cry into his pillow. It wasn't exactly a new occurrence. It was very hard for him to find a stable relationship, and every time he thought he had, something EXACTLY like this happened. It was starting to make him feel like Token had it in for him, and was stalking and seducing all the girls he had a shot with.

_**Yesterday was over**_

_**Today I'm fine without you**_

_**Runaway this time without you**_

_**And all I ever thought you'd be**_

_**That face is tearing holes in me again**_

"That stupid bastard!" she shrieked, throwing another pillow at her door, just for the exertion to work the rage out of her system.

He'd come over to her house a half an hour early to pick her up for a date, heading up to her room and barging in to find her screwing Token. In her defense, who the fuck WOULDN'T want to screw Token. He'd screamed "You fucking bitch!" and run off. The words "You stupid bastard," or some variation thereof were the only things she'd said for past two and a half hours.

She told herself that he had no right to be angry, he should've known that the prom was most likely a one-time deal, born of the fact that no one else would take either of them, but that didn't work. He DID have every right to be angry. You DON'T go screw somebody else a half an hour before you have a date with somebody else. She knew better, but come on, it was TOKEN!

Token, who'd finished up and left shortly after HE had. Just left her there. It wasn't exactly a new occurrence. It was like every time he found a stable relationship, Token would come in and fuck it up. Everybody was starting to wonder whether or not Token had it in for the boy. Always letting himself get CAUGHT fucking the girl he was trying to date. She felt sorry for him.

_**Trust you is just one defense**_

_**off a list of others, you don't make sense**_

_**Beg me time and time again**_

_**to take you back now, but you can't win**_

_**Take back now, my life you're stealing**_

The next day, he'd sought out Stan and Kyle. They both knew about all his relationship problems. He'd found them at Kyle's house, playing Gamesphere.

"Hey man, what's up?" Kyle had asked.

"Yeah, why the long face?" Stan added.

"You guys know I had a date last night, right?" he asked. Both boys nodded.

"Well, HE happened again."

"Token stole ANOTHER one of your girls? Shit, man, she was like the last girl in South Park you HAVEN'T tried to date," Stan said.

"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with him! It's like he takes some sick pleasure in making sure he gets to them right before I pick them up. Every single time I go to pick a girl up, I find him fucking her!" he said, distressed.

"Does he have it in for you or something?" Kyle asked. "What'd you ever do to him?"

"I don't fucking know!" he complained. "_I _didn't steal Wendy away from him, that was Stan! I didn't beat him out for quarterback, that was Stan! It's like he's trying to punish me for what he thinks you did!" he said. "What the hell's up with that?" he asked. "Just because he thinks you're untouchable, that there's no way he can get to you…apparently he's too unbendable to even think of playing like putting the moves on Kyle."

"No," Stan growled, "He doesn't think of playing like putting the moves on Kyle because he knows that if I see anybody LOOK the wrong way at Kyle, I'm going to kick their ass." Kyle looked embarrassed.

"Well, Goddamn, Stan, would you at least talk to him, see if you can find out why he's trying to get to you through me? I don't often mind being the middle man, but THIS time, I'll make an exception!" he said.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do. You wanna hang out for a while, dude?" Stan said.

"Eh, why the hell not?" the other boy said, taking a seat. "It's not like I have anything better to do today."

_**Yesterday was over**_

_**Today I'm fine without you**_

_**Runaway this time without you**_

_**And all I ever thought you'd be**_

_**That face is tearing holes in me again**_

_**but today I'm fine without you**_

_**Runaway this time without you**_

_**And all the things you put me through**_

_**I'm holding on by letting go of you**_

She, for her part, had gone to the house of Heidi Turner, since her best girl friend couldn't be found. Probably off doing something with her bf. Which is what SHE wished she could be doing, but thanks to fucking Token, her bf hated her very existence.

"What is it?" Heidi asked as she entered her room.

"You know I had a date last night, right?" she asked. Heidi nodded.

"Well, Token happened." Heidi gasped.

"Token got to you, too? Goddamn, girl, you were like the last chance in South Park that boy had!"

"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with him! It's like he takes some sick pleasure in making sure he gets to us right before he picks us up. Every single time he goes to pick a girl up, he find him fucking her!" she said, distressed.

"Token must have it in for him," Heidi said. "What'd he ever do to him?"

"I don't fucking know!" she complained. "_He _didn't steal Wendy away from him, that was Stan! He didn't beat him out for quarterback, that was Stan! It's like Token's trying to punish him for what he thinks Stan did!" she said. "What the hell's up with that?" she asked. "Just because Token thinks Stan's untouchable, that there's no way he can get to him…apparently Token's too unbendable to even think of playing like putting the moves on Kyle."

"No," Heidi said, "Token doesn't think of playing like putting the moves on Kyle because he knows that if Stan sees anybody LOOK the wrong way at Kyle, he's going to kick their ass." She sounded like this was the most obvious explanation in the world.

"Well, Goddamnit then, Stan should at least talk to Token, see if he can find out why he's trying to get to Stan like this? I don't often mind being in the middle, but THIS time, I'll make an exception!" she said.

"Totally," Heidi agreed. "You wanna hang out for a while?"

"Eh, why the hell not?" the other girl said, taking a seat. "It's not like I have anything better to do today."

_**And when the memory slips away**_

_**There will be a better view from here**_

_**And only lonesome you remains**_

_**and just the thought of you I fear**_

_**it falls away**_

They both had messages waiting for them when they got home.

She hit the "play all" button on her machine.

"_Hey, it's me_," said the voice of her ex. "_I've asked Stan about it, and we've come to the conclusion that you and I are innocent victims of Token's pointless rage. He's got his panties in a twist over something Stan did, so Stan's going to talk to him about it. Anyway, if you're still interested, call me back. Bye._"

"_Hey bitch, it's me_," said the voice of Token Black. "_Hope last night was as fun for you as it was for me. Call me if you want any more. Bye._" She found herself in a rage over that, and immediately called Token back.

"_Hello,_" he answered in his smooth seduction voice.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!" she screamed, hanging up. Heading up to her room, she immediately started pondering as to whether or not she should call her ex…if they were really broken up in the first place. Though walking in on your girlfriend banging another guy probably WOULD lead to a break up…and they WEREN'T on a break.

Down the street, he also hit the "play all" button on his machine.

"_Hey, it's me,_" said the voice of his ex. "_I talked with Heidi this afternoon, and we figured out that you and I are innocent victims of Token's pointless rage. He's got his panties in a twist over something Stan did, and Heidi's going to see if she can get Stan to talk to him about it. Anyway, if you're still interested in that date, or just wanna talk, call me back. Bye._"

The machine beeped and progressed to the second message. "_Hey asshole, it's me,_" said the voice of Token Black. "_I just wanted you to know I had myself a hell of a lot of fun last night, she was tighter than I expected her to be. Rot in Hell. Bye._" He was enraged by that, and immediately picked up the phone and called Token.

"_What the hell do YOU want?_" he answered in a harsh voice.

"_YOU _ROT IN HELL, YOU WOMAN-STEALING BASTARD!" he screamed, quickly hanging up the phone and heading up to his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he immediately started pondering as to whether or not he should call his ex…if they were really broken up in the first place. Then again, walking in on your girlfriend fucking another guy probably DID mean a break up.

_**Yesterday was over**_

_**Today I'm fine without you**_

_**Runaway this time without you**_

_**And all I ever thought you'd be**_

_**That face is tearing holes in me again**_

_**but today I'm fine without you**_

_**Runaway this time without you**_

_**And all the things you put me through**_

_**I'm holding on by letting go of you**_

Concurrently, he was quite surprised when his phone rang.

"Hello," he answered.

"_Hey, it's me_," came the voice of his ex.

"Innocent victims of his pointless rage, eh?" he asked.

"_I know!_" she said, excited. "_We have totally awesome friends who work on the same brainwaves, don't we?_"

"Yeah, I guess we do," he said. "But that doesn't really change the fact that you fell for it…"

"_Oh come on, it's TOKEN!_" she said. "_There's not a girl in South Park that hasn't dreamed about fucking him._"

"Uh-HUH," he said, neither convinced nor unconvinced. It WAS probably true…Token wasn't all that bad looking.

"_I'm SEROUS,_" she said. "_Besides, it totally sucked. After you interrupted, he just finished up and left me hanging. I didn't get ANYTHING out of it. The fucker. I want to date you, I really do._"

"I dunno, Bebe. I need some time to think," he said.

"_OK, then,_" she said, not particularly thrilled. "_Let me know when and if. We're still friends, though, right Kenny?_"

"Yeah, Friends," Kenny said. "Besides, if we're not, who am I going to get the gossip about the other girls, and who are you going to learn about all the other guys from?"

"_Kenny, you're the best_," Bebe said. "_Bye then._"

"Bye," Kenny said, hanging up and laying back on his bed. Strange goings on indeed.

-.-

Author's Notes: Eh? Eh? Did you guess it? Let me know. It's not the longest thing in the world, but did you think it was interesting that they had pretty much identical thoughts and conversations? Does that make me clever, or lazy as hell? You decide!

Look for chapter 11 tomorrow!

Make sure to leave a review!

El autor


	11. I'm Waiting

All-American Rejection: Chapter 11-I'm Waiting

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

**Summary: Style contemplation on the part of the "St" part, Stan. Time jump, the boys are at college now. Kyle's chapter comes tomorrow, then a happy epilogue and I can go back to planning my new fic (read my profile for the meager details). It's gonna be good, I've already got the first part completely planned out. Came to me last night, while I was trying to avoid "The O.C." SO glad that's cancelled.**

**Author's Notes:** Heheh, so, you guys just thought it would be Wendy and Cartman breaking up eh? Awesome, I fooled you! God, that was so hard to write, making sure I didn't give too much away. Anyway…nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah, heh heh heh heh heh…

**THIS STORY HAS BROKEN 1000 PAGEVIEWS! I AM SO TOTALLY STOKED!! 82 PAGEVIEWS UNTIL THIS IS MY MOST-READ STORY EVAH! WHEEEEEEEE!!!**

**Reviews:**

Ren85:/gives you punch and pie. Yeah, kinda sorta maybe. I just went for Token as the antagonist for that chapter because he's always had a little problem with everybody else…and because it would add to the intrigue. Mwahaha.

MaryAna (ch9):/gives you punch and pie. Thanks a lot! For both the translation and the love! I'm starting to think I need to find a new translation site…

Flabz:/gives you punch and pie. Yep, because he so totally would…just to piss Kyle off. He can take care of himself, Goddamnit Stan!

Lilchicky004:/gives you punch and pie. For cereal? Hehehe…it must be because of the Token element…it was mainly because it was the only way I could write it without giving everything away, lol. That it gives hope for a reunion in the future is an added bonus.

-.-

_**one questions what can't be done**_

_**you tear me down with the same thing**_

_**there's nothing there and it's begun**_

_**what can you do when it all drains**_

Stan Marsh sat in his dorm room, watching some stupid cartoon for kids approximately half his age while he impatiently waited for Kyle to get back from class. All the things the recruiters had said about how it was sometimes bad for you to room with a best friend from High School they had pointedly ignored, with two pretty damn good reasons. First, they had practically been roommates while back home, spending enough time in each other's rooms that their parents often contemplated claiming both of them on their taxes. Second, they were WAY more than best friends. The two boys found sex to be a great stress reliever, and especially with Kyle's classload, he often came back needing to relieve some stress. Stan was only too happy to oblige.

Granted, there was a lot more to their relationship than sex. The fact that they'd pushed their twin beds together to make a makeshift full-size was more coincidental-it gave them room for a futon couch/bed-than it was intentional. That, and it was somewhat difficult to squeeze two people on a twin bed. They still did as much together as possible. A few people in their wing had correctly guessed that they were gay, and after the incident where Kyle managed to stuff a 200 pound exercise science major into a garbage can, accepted it, occasionally reminding them to keep it down. Kyle took this as an opportunity to start dragging Stan to art exhibits, taking it upon himself to educate Stan on the finer things in life. Stan, personally, thought Kyle was just grooming them to commence a hostile takeover of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

Stan was majoring in chemistry. The Marsh family had a predisposition for scientifically-oriented jobs. Granted, a receptionist at a surgical office wasn't a scientifically-oriented job _per se_, but Stan carefully overlooked this. His classes weren't that hard, both boys were working on their gen-ed requirements, but Kyle, majoring in business, had a far more rigorous course of study. Self-imposed, but still more rigorous. He was taking as many classes as he possibly could, accumulating 18 credit hours, while Stan was cruising along with 14-four three credit-hour courses plus a lab and a basketball class which was worth one credit-hour. Eventually, Stan knew, their positions would be reversed. Stan would have to take more classes while Kyle bought himself time to slack off a bit, but for now, he was content with all his spare time.

It gave him time to think.

_**down there, you go always**_

_**see if I care faded**_

_**down, don't you know where I'll be**_

_**cause I'm here, on my own**_

It was beyond question that he loved Kyle. Everything about him-his hair, the way he hated his hair, his smarts, his beautiful green eyes, his patience, his lack of patience, the way he kissed, the way he reacted whenever Stan found a new tender spot, his temper…Kyle was the perfect nerd. He complemented Stan, smaller frame merging almost seamlessly with Stan, curve to curve.

There was a contrast Stan very much enjoyed. Kyle kept him active. When Stan wanted to just lay back and do nothing, Kyle was urging him to go get something done-homework, a project, Kyle himself. He seemed determined to keep Stan the way he liked him, not see him morph into some Stan/Cartman hybrid. Stan himself shuddered at the thought, similar to the way Kyle shuddered anytime he saw a bag of Cheesy Poofs. Neither of them had gained the "Freshman 15," and it was all thanks to Kyle. He barely had time to eat, and had actually lost a little weight, while making sure that Stan didn't eat too much and not work it off.

Stan smiled as he thought of the ways Kyle made him work off extra food. Both went to the gym every day for a workout, but instead of spending extra time there, Kyle made him work extra hard that night. Sex, he explained, also burned calories. So those nights, Kyle let Stan be the dominant, exerting more than usual and keeping him fit and trim…just like Kyle liked him.

_**waiting, when I'm waiting**_

_**I've been here before, and I don't care where I'm going**_

_**so I'll say...**_

The cartoon went into something even dumber, so Stan switched over to ESPN. They were talking about college basketball, could anybody stop some point guard with a funny name for some team on the other side of the country or something retarded like that. Muting it, Stan grabbed his chemistry notebook to do some homework.

**Potassium Bromide + Samarium  ?**

Stan wrote it out, dutifully

**KB + Sm **

He stopped. KB + Sm…Kyle and Stan…well, if his professor or whoever ended up grading this knew, they would probably get a laugh out of it. Picking up his pen again, he finished the problem.

**KB + Sm  PERFECTION**

He didn't feel like moving on to the next problem. He checked the clock. 2:45. Kyle's class should be letting out about now, he'd be back by 3. Putting the chemistry away, Stan picked up the TV remote and started channel surfing.

_**when you walk don't leave a note**_

_**just put your hands on the back door**_

_**when you talk it's just a joke**_

_**just no, I can't take it anymore**_

2:58, Stan heard the key in the lock and turned to the door as Kyle came in.

"Hey Kyle!" he said. "How was class?"

"Sucked ass," Kyle said. "I don't think they know that I don't give a shit about some douchebag philosopher who lived three thousand years ago."

"Maybe you should tell them in your next paper," Stan suggested jokingly. "Or do like Fatass would," he paused for a second to change his voice into Cartman's whine.

"Excuuuuuuse meh, Profeessssah, I don't think this claaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas is meeting mah educationahl neeeeeeeeeeeeds," he squeaked out. Kyle busted out laughing.

"Dude, stop!" he said, gasping for breath. "C'mon, I'm hungry. Let's go grab a bite."

"Bleh…" Stan said. "All they've got today is crappy vegetarian shit. Fried broccoli and lettuce pizza and crap like that."

"I know," Kyle said. "I didn't say the cafeteria, did I? I want a Subway. You can drive…" That got Stan's attention. His driving time had been severely restricted by the fact that almost anytime you left your parking spot, some little douchebag came and stole it and you had to park about a mile from where you're going.

"Subway it is!" he announced, snatching his keys off the desk and running for the door.

_**down there, you go always**_

_**see if I care faded**_

_**down, don't you know where I'll be**_

_**cuz I'm here, on my own**_

When they got to the Subway, Kyle ordered carefully. He tried to keep kosher, but very few fast-food chains gave a shit about Jewish practices, so he got a turkey breast sub, with Swiss cheese and lettuce and olives and pickles and tomatoes on wheat. Stan opted for a smaller sandwich, turkey, bacon, American and lettuce, with a bit of mayo, on white bread. He and Kyle always ordered so close to each other, these little things made them able to distinguish their orders. Picking out some chips and a drink, they found a seat by the window.

"Do you have anything to do tonight?" Kyle asked as they unwrapped the sandwiches. "I kind of wanna go to a movie."

"It's FRIDAY!" Stan reminded him. "I don't have anything to do until Sunday. What movie?"

"I dunno…a movie," Kyle said, taking a bite. "It's seriously Friday? How'd I miss that?" Stan shrugged, biting into his own sandwich.

"Well, I guess it's a movie, the game, or just a night of screwing you senseless with the stereo playing something loud," Stan said quite non-chalantly, nearly making Kyle choke on an olive.

"We could combine the two," he suggested. "Movie, then a night of screwing you senseless."

"Nah ah," Stan said. "If I have to go to a movie with you, I getta screw YOU senseless. You always ruin movies," he said with a pout, reaching for his cup.

"I do not!" the redhead protested. "All I do is tell you what's real and what's made up!"

"Whereas I like pretending Hollywood gets everything right," Stan said. "Even if I know otherwise…"

"Trade," Kyle said. "I'll let you pick the movie, and won't say a word, if I get to screw you senseless afterwards."

"That sounds fair," Stan said, pointedly ignoring all the strange looks they were getting. "Now eat your sandwich, I need to grab a paper to see what's playing." Kyle threw him a mock salute and proceeded to devour his footlong sub a little faster than Stan, who paused for the occasional chip with his sandwich.

_**waiting, when I'm waiting**_

_**I've been here before, and I don't care where I'm going**_

_**so I'll be, waiting **_

_**when I'm waiting **_

_**I'll tell you once more**_

_**that, as long as you're gone**_

They arrived at the movie theater to find Stan interested in a new comedy, to which he promptly bought tickets for and rushed Kyle into, finding prime seats with a great view of the screen.

They spent the next two hours laughing at the exploits of a hapless loser who kept making matters worse for him and his family, no matter how hard he tried to fix things.

"See now, was that so bad?" Stan asked as they left the theater and headed back to campus.

"No," Kyle conceded. "Now, do we need to stop at Wal-Mart, or are we still well-stocked on what I'm gonna need?"

"Of course!" Stan said. "Kyle, when have we ever not been, except for that one time?" That one time was the first night they had moved in, and they'd had the bright idea to properly break in the beds. Unfortunately, neither boy had thought to pack condoms or lubricant to bring with them, and thus Kyle had been forced to make an embarrassing trip to the store while Stan waited back at the room.

Luckily finding a prime parking spot, Stan slipped his car in and locked it before practically running into their dorm and taking the stairs two at a time to get to their floor, then running down the hall to their door, Kyle already pressing into Stan as he unlocked the door, admitting them into the room and slamming it behind them.

He managed to turn on the stereo as Kyle started kissing and stripping him, and got it to repeat a song before he was unable to control anything.

_**then I'll say**_

_**outside there's no place I can hide**_

_**and your dead of time**_

_**is anything alright**_

_**when the wind tries**_

_**make storm walls outside**_

_**you'll be outside**_

**_I'm in here and I'll guard_**

Kyle woke him up when he came in from his morning run.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Breakfast time!" Kyle said, waving a sausage link he'd picked up from the cafeteria on his way back in front of Stan's nose. The aroma did wonders to wake up Stan, and before Kyle knew it, the sausage and Kyle's thumb and forefinger had been pulled into Stan's mouth.

"Hey!" Kyle protested, releasing the pork product and yanking his fingers from Stan's mouth. Stan then chewed and swallowed before sitting up.

"Morning, Kyle!" His cheery response was dulled with Kyle effectively bitch slapping him with a pillow.

"Ow!"

"My fingers are not for eating, Stan," Kyle groused. "How many times must we go over this?"

"Then stop sticking things in my mouth without permission," Stan whined back. "Especially things that taste good. I might not be able to show restraint."

"Whatever," Kyle said. "Get dressed, loverboy. They're running out of sausage, and you know they always burn the bacon on the weekend." It never failed to work. If you knew the right foods to stress, Stan was a slave to his stomach, like any boy his age. HIS morning run was the race to the cafeteria every morning. Kyle always beat him, because Kyle did two miles every morning to wake up and warm up, but it was still running.

_**waiting, when I'm waiting**_

_**I've been here before, and I don't care where I'm going**_

_**so I'll be, waiting **_

_**when I'm waiting **_

_**I'll tell you once more**_

_**that, as long as you're gone**_

As the boys ran up the hill to the cafeteria, Stan again reflected on how lucky he was to have somebody like Kyle in his life, especially in the position he had him in. Kyle thought he had Stan under his control, but Stan also had SOME influence over Kyle. Influence he was very careful about using, because it was subtle and subtlety was something Kyle was very good at noticing. Thankfully, he usually was good about playing along.

_**and I'll say...**_

_**I missed it**_

_**I missed it**_

_**and you'll call then I'll stay**_

-.-

Author's Notes: OK…that kinda devolved. Wasn't that subtle about it, either. Meh. OK, last real chapter coming atcha sometime tomorrow! Make sure you leave a review here, because I'm running out of time to answer them! Gah!

And make sure you check out my profile for stuff about my upcoming fics and stuff like that.

Remember, press the little purple button on the left below this!!

Punch and Pie!

El Autor


	12. Can't Take It

All-American Rejection: Chapter 12-Can't Take It

**Disclaimer: Not MINE!**

**Summary: Kyle's Style contemplation.**

**Author's Notes:** **YOU GUYS ARE SO TOTALLY AWESOME!!! 1200+ PAGEVIEWS!!** This is now my most-viewed story, and is tied for most favorited, has the most alerts attached to it, my longest story, and my most reviewed story! In short, it pwns!!

The epilogue will be a time-jump from here. Yep, two time jumps in a three-chapter span. Aren't I special? It's been really fun writing this, and I'll probably miss it, but only until I start writing **Rescue Me**, which you can read about on my profile!

Contrary to the lyrics, I will NOT be breaking up Stan and Kyle. Kyle will have problems with somebody/something in this chapter, and have a schism with him/her/it, but not with Stan. That would be a little too hard to fix in an epilogue.

Reviews:

Ren85:/gives you punch and pie. Heh…cuz with any other couple, it'd probably be coed rooming…which most colleges don't allow XD. Yes, you do need to listen to this album…it's only about 40 minutes long…at least that's what it said when I burned it…most of the songs up until the last 4 are awesome…these last 4 (9, 10, 11, and 12) sound downright WEIRD…but don't let that put you off.

Lumina Lin:/gives you punch and pie. Yay indeed! Heh, that totally sucks…I think everybody busted out laughing at that Spanish note.

Flabz:/gives you punch and pie. God forbid I should make you unhappy! You might stop reading! Eek!

PPBunny (ch10): Aw, flu does suck! Nice to know I got another one!

PPBunny: There are indeed. And this gives me another opportunity to shamelessly plug my upcoming fic! The first chapter of which could be up in as soon as two weeks!

-.-

_**You speak to me and**_

_**I know this will be temporary**_

_**You ask to leave,**_

_**but I can tell you that I've had enough**_

Kyle poked at his eggs and toast while Stan, across the table, was practically inhaling eggs and sausages. He knew it bothered Kyle, which is why he was so quick about eating them, but they woke him up, and Kyle couldn't fault him for that. He woke up to coffee; Stan woke up to cooked pork. Something Kyle could cook, but not eat.

He was thinking about a paper he had to write over the weekend. He was very stressed out. Six classes had probably not been the best of ideas for an incoming freshman. English Comp, Introductory Business, Philosophy, Psychology, Spanish, Introductory Economics…each had assigned at least one paper a week, and Kyle didn't really like it. He really only needed to take five classes per semester. Next semester, he would.

"Kyle?" Stan asked interrupting his thoughts. "Eat your breakfast, man, it's getting cold." Faking a smile, Kyle shoveled a few forkfuls of "egg" into his mouth. The toast was rather stale already, so he discarded it.

_**I can't take it**_

_**This welcome is gone and**_

_**I've waited long enough to make it**_

_**and if you're so strong**_

_**you might as well just do it alone**_

_**And I'll watch you go**_

Leaving the cafeteria, the boys walked home, Kyle standing in front of Stan and using his body to block the wind that was blowing across campus. That was one of the things Kyle loved about his taller lover, he was very protective. It embarrassed Kyle to no end, Stan always getting into fights over him when he knew quite well Kyle could take care of himself, despite his scrawny stature.

Perhaps that was why Stan did it. Maybe he liked getting attention from Kyle afterwards, when the smaller boy, no matter of the outcome of the fight, would run to his side and "take care" of his "protector." Stan did it because Kyle then "owed" him. Maybe he felt that he wasn't getting enough top time and had a secret flair for the dramatic that he denied…either way, he did get what he wanted.

It was one of the "subtle influences" Stan thought he had over Kyle. Kyle had figured him out long ago, and just played along because it made Stan happy. Kyle made Stan happy, a happiness he'd never seen when Stan was with anyone else. That was a look of drudgery, that he was tired of them after two minutes. He'd been with Stan in some way or another for the last fifteen or so years, and he'd never gotten bored with him. That was the mark of true love, in Kyle's mind.

_**Step up to me**_

_**I know that you've got something buried**_

_**I'll set you free**_

_**You set conditions, but I've had enough**_

Kyle swiped his ID card to open the door to the building as Stan ran ahead to stop an elevator. Kyle followed him, and got off on their floor, walking down to their room.

"So what the hell do we do for the rest of the day?" Stan asked, glancing at the wall clock, which read 10:30 AM. Kyle was tempted to say that he needed to start work on one of the two papers he had due for Monday, but hell, it was Saturday! He had all day Sunday, and they were only three-pagers.

"I dunno," Kyle admitted. "It's Saturday. What's on TV?"

"Cartoons," Stan said without hesitation. "Except maybe on the History channel, and all that shit is boring." Then again, he did have plenty of spare time; it wasn't too surprising he knew everything that was on.

"Play a game?" Kyle asked, looking at the Gamesphere they'd brought.

"Megadeath III?" Stan asked. It was one of the most gruesome games they owned, where the main objective was just to slaughter your way across a town. Zombies, vampires, Asians, animated pies…the enemies only increased in difficulty with each new town you encountered.

"Yeah, alright," Kyle said. "But I get to be the dude with the flamethrower!" Stan adopted a pained look.

"That's the only good weapon! Chainsaws aren't as effective against vampires!" Now it was Kyle's turn to pout. He wasn't as good at it as Stan, but he was good enough.

"Fine, fine," Stan said, putting the game in the Gamesphere and turning the machine on.

"Prepare to be humiliated!" Stan announced with relish as he grabbed a seat on the futon.

_**I can't take it**_

_**This welcome is gone and**_

_**I've waited long enough to make it**_

_**and if you're so strong**_

_**you might as well just do it alone**_

_**And I'll watch you go**_

The next time Stan or Kyle looked at a clock was when the phone rang at 1:00 PM. Pausing the game, Kyle picked up.

"'Lo?" he asked, wondering who could be calling them at one on a Saturday afternoon. His question was answered as soon as the person at the other end spoke.

"_Hello, Bubby,_" his mother said. Of course.

"Hi Mom. How've you been?" Kyle asked, pantomiming shooting himself in the head for Stan. Stan laughed.

"_Just fine, Kyle_," Mrs. Broflovski said. "_I'm not calling to exchange pleasantries Kyle. That could take hours._" Uh-oh. Kyle quickly switched to speakerphone, sensing that his mother was about to yell at him about something.

"Why're you calling then?" he asked.

"_I just had Ike look up your midterm grades online, Kyle_," she said. "_Care to explain that C in Philosophy and the B- in Introductory Economics?_" Ah shit.

"I can send you the syllabuses if you'd care to understand why," he replied in a slightly snide tone. "In fact, I can send you the syllabuses of all my classes, so you WILL understand why."

"_Don't you take that tone of voice with ME, Kyle Broflovski!_" she said. "_I don't care about your syllabuses. They're paper, they can't talk. I want YOU to tell me why you have those grades._" Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. It worked for Stan, who took this opportunity to speak up.

"Kyle's really trying, Mom," he said. Stan had taken to calling her that over the past few months, and she didn't seem to mind. "He's just really overworked. He has to write at least one paper every week for each class, and sometimes they aren't all that short, plus the normal homework they assign."

"_Then why isn't he managing his time better, Stanley?_" Sheila asked. "_Are you disrupting his schoolwork with your fooling around?_"

"No, Goddamnit mom, he's not!" Kyle said. "I'm taking too many classes and I'm paying the price. I'll see what I can do about it, but that Philosophy class sucks ass, and Introductory Econ is more boring than public television."

"_That's never stopped you before, Kyle,_" Sheila reminded him. "_You thought every class you took in high school was like that, and you never did so badly in them._"

"High School classwork is a million times easier!" Kyle shouted. "You don't have to fucking THINK! It's all in the book in High School! College asks for your opinion, and I'm running out of opinion and my brain's nearly fried!"

"_Language, Kyle!_" Sheila admonished him. "_I didn't make you take all those courses._"

"No, the college did," Kyle said. "But I didn't have to take them all now! As long as I took them before I graduated, I highly doubt they would've given a shit."

"_Well, you're stuck with it now, Kyle_," his mother said. "_And if you let these grades slip any further, I will come up there and drag you back home by the ear!_" Kyle wanted to kill his mother.

"Don't worry, Mom, he won't!" Stan butted in again, preventing Kyle from saying something rash. "I'll make sure of it!"

"_You'd better, Stanley_," Sheila said. "_Or else your parents might find out about your grade in your Art History class._" Kyle looked at Stan funny. He'd only suggested that class to Stan as a joke.

"I WILL!" Stan insisted. "Is that all?"

"_I guess so?_" Mrs. Broflovski said. "_I'll see both you boys soon for break, won't I?_"

"Yes ma'am," Stan said.

"_You've had me on speaker, haven't you?_" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," Stan said.

"_I thought as much. Goodbye, boys. Talk to you later._"

"Bye Mom!" both boys said in unison as Kyle hung up.

_**Come back home, won't you come home?**_

_**You step in line, you got a lot to prove**_

_**It comes and goes**_

_**Yeah, it comes and goes**_

_**A step in time, yeah it's a lot to move**_

_**I know this will be temporary**_

_**I know this will be temporary**_

_**I know this will be, but I've had enough**_

"I KNEW she'd get on me soon enough about those," Kyle said, sagging back onto their bed. "Is now a bad time to mention that I've got papers for both those classes to do?"

"Not at all," Stan said. "What about?"

"Plato for Philosophy, and Microeconomics for Econ," Kyle said. Stan saved the game and went to his computer.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asked.

"The first draft of your papers," Stan said. "Relax, guy. You need to rest. Take a nap or something."

"Stan, you don't have to do that," Kyle insisted.

"No, I don't," he admitted. "But, I want to, and you need the rest. I made a promise to your mom, and I like my smart Kyle. Don't fry your brain over this shit; fry it over dreaming up kinky ways to make me scream your name. Now go to sleep," he said, drawing the covers over Kyle and closing the blinds. Kyle quickly complied as Stan turned back to his computer. The last thing he thought was 'I have the most awesome boyfriend in the world.'

_**I can't take it**_

_**This welcome is gone and**_

_**I've waited long enough to make it**_

_**and if you're so strong**_

_**you might as well just do it alone**_

_**And I'll watch you go**_

Kyle didn't wake up until 5:00 that night. Stan was still tapping away at the computer, and there was a box of food on top of Kyle's bedside table. Another box was sitting by Stan's computer.

Grabbing the box and kicking off the covers, Kyle went over to the microwave to heat up the food. It was only the sound of the microwave starting that startled Stan away from his computer work.

"Evening dude. Sleep well?" he asked.

"Well enough," Kyle said. "What is that, by the way?" he asked, indicating the food he was heating.

"Turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy," Stan said, shuffling through a mass of paper on his desk and coming up with three sheets that he handed over to Kyle.

"Your Philosophy paper," he said. "I went through your bag for a better assignment description. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but this Econ paper is a little tougher." Kyle retrieved the food and a spork and sat on the bed to eat while reading over the paper. It was…good. Really good.

"You didn't copy this from Wikipedia, did you?" Kyle asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

"No dude. I went through my Encyclopedia Britannica disc, and did a Google search. Found something from your lecture notes, and some other professor's online lecture. Only a few odd things in there are from Wikipedia," Stan said, stopping his typing and switching to clicking. Kyle saw a spell-check window pop up, and Stan click through all the odd words and grammar suggestions before the check was done. Stan then sent the Econ paper to the printer.

"Same thing here," he said. "A few of the reference links are from Wikipedia, but I didn't copy and paste. Everybody looks to Wikipedia first when they get a paper nowadays, both students and the professors who grade the papers. Only an idiot would try to copy and paste a wiki for a paper." Skimming through this paper as well, Kyle saw that this paper too was of a high-B, low-A quality.

"I don't deserve you," he said, leaning up to kiss Stan.

"Sure you do," Stan said, obliging his boyfriend. "Did you come up with anything while you were asleep?" Kyle grinned.

"As a matter of fact," Kyle said, clearing the bed of papers and boxes and dragging Stan down by the shirt collar, "I did."

_**I can't take it**_

_**This welcome is gone and**_

_**I've waited long enough to make it**_

_**and if you're so strong**_

_**you might as well just do it alone**_

_**And I'll watch you go**_

-.-

Author's Note: M'kay, that's the last real chapter! Goes out on a happier note than I thought, so we'll just see how happy we can make the overall tone of the fic with the epilogue tomorrow!!

Oh, btw, if you didn't guess, Kyle had a problem with his schoolwork.

Leave a review!

Sorry about how late I'm getting this out, but my stupid brothers were playing a game all morning and I was out of the house all afternoon…I really hate them not having school.

See you tomorrow!

El autor


	13. Epilogue

All-American Rejection: Epilogue

**Disclaimer: Not mine, not at all.**

**Summary: The end! Just a few loose ends to tie up.**

**Author's Notes: I LOVE YOU ALL!! ROTFL, I just looked at my pageviews…I have 1338! Heheh…if it'd been one less, I'd make a screenshot and post it on my DA…1337 pageviews would be the PWNAGE!!**

**Anyway, this story now owns the most everything (almost…d'oh!). Words, chapters, reviews, pageviews, C2 placements, favorites, and alerts! **

**Reviews!**

**Flabz:/Punch and Pie! Indeed, indeed, and yes it did! He wasn't being completely serious when he told Kyle what to dream about, but…**

**SouthParkateer:/Punch and Pie! Thank you!! That makes me feel very happy! Which is…something I rather need, because it's snowing here…bah!**

**theonecalledRJLG:/Punch and Pie! Thanks! Well, I think here's a good place for a spoiler for Rescue Me, which is now almost 2/3 planned…you get to see an emo Kyle! Don't know if that'll float your boat, but it'll be damn interesting to write.**

**Ren85:/Punch and Pie! Heh, neither am I…I was up till three last night and then got woke up at 8 to go to church…rather would've skipped. I need my sleep! And…Stan calling Sheila Mom is sort-of unintentional foreshadowing…you'll see.**

**PP. Bunny: Do you mind 1 more punch and pie? It'll help take your mind off your bf…and it is indeed. More, perhaps, for the Style than for the frequent mentions of breakfast, but whatever floats your boat…**

**Lilchicky004 (ch.11):/Punch and Pie! Heheh! You can't not, and neither can they! It is their dessssssstinyyyy.**

**Lilchicky004:/Punch and Pie! Here is more! **

**I shall lurk about for a while until Rescue Me is ready to go…it's been fun! See you around the fandom, everyone!!**

**-.-**

_Five years later_

Twenty-three year old Stan Marsh held the hand of his husband as they sat in the church. He was still getting used to this change in terminology…and finding a ring when they held hands.

He had proposed at their graduation ceremonies, interrupting Kyle's speech as Senior Class President and shocking the hell out of the little redhead, who had of course accepted. They had waited to plan the ceremony until after they had found steady work. They had found it, not too far from their families and friends in South Park. Kyle had signed on with an accounting firm, and Stan was working in Research and Development for a pharmaceutical company in Denver. The two shared a modest apartment downtown, and Kyle had finally weaned Stan off of pork products.

Their wedding had been small and elegant. Stan had wrestled Kyle into the tux he'd worn to the senior prom-altered for a better fit-while himself wearing a white tuxedo. Family and select friends only, which meant pretty much all of South Park, in a multifaith ceremony presided over jointly by Father Maxi and the Rabbi from the synagogue. The overall wording wasn't that different, all they had to do was put the "stomp the glass" before "kiss the groom."

Now, they were attending another wedding from members of their old high school class. Stan smiled at Kyle before returning his attention to the altar, where the groom had just finished reciting his vows and the priest had begun speaking.

"Do you, Eric Theodore Cartman, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish her in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?" he asked the groom.

"I do," he said, slipping a ring onto his bride's finger. Cartman had gotten even better in the five years since the boys had last seen him. As far as Stan had heard, he was down to a respectable 250 pounds, which settled rather nicely on his six-foot nil frame, become a registered Libertarian, and was currently working his way through law school.

"Do you, Wendy Marie Testaburger, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?" the priest asked the bride.

"I do," Wendy said, smiling as she returned the favor for her groom. She had majored in medicine, and was looking to become a veterinarian. She'd always had a passion for animals, Stan reflected. She looked beautiful in her wedding gown, with a train that required an extra four bridesmaids just to carry it.

"Then by the power vested in me by the Lord God and the State of Colorado, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride," the priest intoned. Eric lifted Wendy's veil and gave her a passionate smooch. Stan and Kyle snuck out of their seats and headed for the back of the church, picking up two of the bags of rice and headed out to the steps as the Wedding March struck up again.

When Wendy and Cartman burst through the doors, Stan and Kyle immediately inundated them with the rice, causing Wendy to laugh and Cartman to act all angry.

"You guys!" he complained. "You didn't even cook it! Uncooked rice sucks!" This pause gave the rest of the guests time to catch up and douse them in their own rice before they could escape to their limo, which would take them to the reception.

It was at the reception where Stan and Kyle caught up to the last member of their childhood group of friends.

"Hey Kenny, how's it going?" Kyle asked. Kenny McCormick had worked his way through two years of community college, getting good enough grades to warrant a full merit scholarship to Colorado State. Kenny had needed an extra year to graduate, and had just accepted a job with a telecommunications firm in Denver.

"Pretty damn good guys," Kenny said. "Hey, do you think you could help me and the missus find a place in Denver? She's all excited to move and all, but we need a place first."

"Sure," Stan said. "How is Bebe, by the way?"

"A lot less slutty!" Kenny said. "After you beat the shit out of Token before you and Kyle left, we got back together pretty quick and we've been that way since. LOVED your wedding gift, by the way. Not something I plan to have a lot of use for anymore, but thoughtful nonetheless. Where'd you get a stein that big anyway?" he asked. Stan and Kyle grinned.

"Gift shop at the Coors' Brewery," Kyle said with a smirk. "Stan insisted we take a tour when we first got to town. Sorry we missed the wedding, but…why'd you have it in April, anyway?"

Kenny shrugged. "Only time the church was available for a decent price. You weren't missed TOO badly."

"Yeah, but we still should've been there," Stan said, looking around the room to see Cartman feeding Wendy some wedding cake. "Who would've guessed those two would last this long?"

"Probably not half the people here," Kenny said, and Kyle agreed.

"Hell, I looked it up in our old HS yearbook before we came here. We voted them Weirdest Couple," the redhead said.

"Just goes to show how strange life is," Kenny said. "C'mon, we'd better get over to the table…they're about to start the toasts."

Sharing another glance, Stan and Kyle followed their blonde friend to their seats as Kenny tapped his glass to get everyone's attention and start the toasts.

Everything had worked out pretty well for them. They'd gone through trials and tribulations, and always come out on top. The way things were supposed to be was, for once, the way they actually were.

_**FIN**_


End file.
